Life of L

I'm doing better (167.0)

2012-01-26T21:41:00.001-06:00

Using the SAD light consistently seems to be key in keeping me sane.
My meds are also increased slightly which is hopefully helping. Online
sermons from Menlo Park Presbyterian Church are literally a God send
for me. As is my quiet time with my Bible in the morning.

It's still been a rough week though. I'm crazy busy and so is Mark. I
cry almost every morning but that's really not a bad thing. I'm not
crying at night anyway.

I'm eating better, more deliberately, less junk. It's showing in the
scale and my clothes. I ran twice this week; doing 9 miles Saturday.
My half marathon is 30 days away.

We are all healthy (whispered and knocking wood--there's a lot of
sickness going around).

I am too busy to write anything other than a quick update though. But
I have lots of thoughts on eliminating hurry, on what true rest means
for me, and on how relying on money or food to soothe the void when
pain comes is a symptom of self sufficiency instead of living with
God's grace. So hopefully I'll have time soon to actually put some
thoughts to paper.

As it is, I'm typing this on my iPhone right before bed. Which is
better than nothing.

Back to the psych (170.0) and "hurry"

2012-01-19T16:00:00.000-06:00

My moods have been cycling a bit lately. I thought it was just missing days on my SAD light or hormones. And maybe in part it is. But the past week I've been using my SAD light regularly and I've still had weird days.

I woke up on Tuesday feeling on top of the world--and like I was going to get myself on track and lose weight and get back into great shape. By the end of the day, I was back in the pit.

Then Wednesday I woke up in the pit, but ended the day feeling really great, only to have the air let out of me when I got home because of a conversation with my husband. And I was back in the pit. I went running last night and that helped alleviate some stress, but I stayed pretty much in the pit the rest of the night.

This morning I realized that it's not just been the past two days I've been "cycling" through this stuff. So I called my therapist's office and made an appointment for tomorrow to see the nurse practitioner and get my meds increased. I'm on a very low dose of my mood stabilizer and there is plenty of room to increase it.

So onto the "hurry" part. I am listening to Menlo Park Presbyterian podcasts (LOVE John Ortberg--thanks to Debby for introducing me to him a few years ago). The one from 6/1/2010 is named "The Rest of Your Life." It's centered around the 23rd Psalm.

There's so much richness and meaningfulness in this sermon. What has stuck with me is a conversation he had with his spiritual mentor, Dallas Willard. It was a time in his life when the pace of their lives had accelerated tremendously. John asked him what he needs to do to be spiritually healthy and alive and vital.

Dallas Willard responded with "you must ruthlessly eliminate hurry from your life." There's nothing else. Hurry is the great enemy of spiritual life in our day.

Hurry is different from Busy. Busy is an outward condition, of your body. We are each wired with different capacities, to be able to be busy (at different levels of busyness) without being damaged by it.

To be hurried is a disease of the soul. To be hurried means that I am internally so preoccupied with my worries and my own little agenda that I become unable to live in the presence of my heavenly Father who loves me, and to be unable to be fully present with, listen and love, and marvel at another person.

Hurry is the great enemy of spiritual life in our day. Because it will keep you from actually experiencing God's goodness and care for you from one moment to the next.

It's easy to imagine that someday someone or something is going to come along and eliminate this problem from your life. But they won't! It's up to ME to ruthlessly eliminate hurry from my life.

I am listening to this sermon again and again. And I'm working on figuring out what it means to ruthlessly eliminate hurry from my life.

Checking in (170.0)

2012-01-14T14:02:00.001-06:00

I'm ok. I'm stupidly busy with work and kids this month. My running is
on track--two solid runs during the week and 6 miles this morning. My
house is clean and laundry is done. I'm back to using my SAD light
everyday. Everyone was healthy this week.

My eating could be a lot better though. I'm out of my routine. My
evenings are one long string of "afters." Somedays are better than
others, and I get a good breakfast and lunch in, and I tend not to
indulge at night as much on those days.

I can feel the extra pounds in my clothes and see it on my waist line.
I'm not happy about it. But I'm not beating myself up either. I'm
doing the best I can right now with my crazy life. That's not an
excuse and I'm not giving up. It's just reality.

I actually feel pretty stable emotionally (this week anyway). My SAD
light makes a huge difference.

I do need to shift my mentality away from food as comfort and reward
and back to food as nourishment and fuel. There's the rub. I had a
devil and an angel on my shoulders last night and I heard the angel
voice saying "you don't want to eat this. You don't need it. You don't
need this food for comfort." I ignored it and ate for comfort anyway.

A big part of me knows that if I keep ignoring this voice it will
eventually stop talking to me. It's a quick slide down into the pit
once that happens. And then there's the part of me that rationalizes
and says I've been here before and I can stop when I want to.

That's addiction thinking. I know it is.

I have issues. I am doing the best I can. January's always suck for
me. February is when I started in 2007 to lose weight. I am half way
through January. I think I can make it the rest of the way without
doing too much damage.

January -- at last

2012-01-05T18:32:00.002-06:00

I know I know. It's been too long. I've been meaning to post for days. I've not been in a good place. No surprise I guess since my silence here generally means I'm not doing great.

The holidays got me way off kilter. Too much food, not enough time to myself, not enough days in front of my SAD light, too much illness. I wasn't sick but Mark was, for basically a full month. It all takes a toll.

Then Sophie got the stomach flu Saturday and a migraine Sunday that just let up today. She went to school Monday for a couple of hours. I picked her up and the ride in the school wheel chair to my car made her so dizzy she threw up leaning out of my car onto the sidewalk.

Add to that work uncertainty (we are in the midst of making decisions on changing things) and general moodiness from hormones, the moon, or what have you, and it's no wonder I've been off.

So I went to my therapist today. It helped. I'm going back in a month. I also have been in front of my SAD light three days in a row. That helps.

I ran 8 very hard miles last Saturday but hadn't run before or after (until the 2.5 miles I did on the treadmill today). The 8 were hard because you can't run a 10 mile run one Saturday, do nothing all week, and then run 8 miles the next Saturday.

Also, my asthma kicked up big time and I wasn't carrying my inhaler. I haven't needed it during a run this year. Before a run, I always use it (albuteral), but usually only need it with me on long runs. Which in hindsight--duh. 8 miles is a long run. I am going to start carrying it with me again.

The proud news on the running front is I ran 5 miles non stop on the 10 miler and 6 miles non stop on the 8 miler. Not taking walk breaks is a big deal for me. The other good news is I haven't gained a bunch of weight. I was 168.6 yesterday. I didn't weigh today and it is probably a bit more. But I know what I need to do to get going in the right direction again.

A New Year doesn't do much for me. For me, the build up is too much. The expectations too high. The disappointment factor too great. Too hot and then too cold. Too much room for failure.

So I look at January as what it is-- 3 months more until Spring. And the days are already getting longer. I miss the sun and the green and the warmth. I am ready to bloom when March gets here.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Your habits will always defeat your willpower (170.8)

2011-12-24T10:00:00.001-06:00

First, Merry Christmas to all!

Second, that's 4 pounds of bonified cookie weight. Ahh, the holidays.

Third, I just finished running 10 miles. Woot!

I wanted to quickly post this before it got away from me. I'm listening to an online sermon from Menlo Park Presbyterian Church in California (by John Ortberg). The sermon is about healing.

A key point from the sermon is: your will habits will always defeat your willpower. You might be able to overcome your habits for an hour or a day or a week, but ultimately your habits will win.

Your only hope is for a new set of habits.

Wow. This is so incredibly huge for weight loss and fitness. I will be noodling on this and keeping it in the front if my mind as I go into the new year.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Christmas! (167.6)

2011-12-20T15:18:00.001-06:00

Still crazy. Still swamped. I've been up and down emotionally the past couple of weeks, depending on the cycle of the moon, on my hormones, and on my SAD light usage/non-usage.

We were in Nashville over the weekend. It was fun and happy but with the usual stress that comes from traveling and staying in a hotel.

I'm taking this week off from work, but I'm still doing some work stuff. It just can't be helped.

Today is a good day. Very busy but I feel ok. I'm mailing almost 200 Christmas cards today. I'm also getting my hair done and stuffing and licking envelopes while my color processes. My mom has the kids tonight, so I'm wrapping everything tonight.

Just like you all, I'm swamped with Christmas stuff. I'm not getting much running in, but I ran 8 miles the weekend before last and am running 10 miles this weekend. Planning on running at least twice this week.

Work is still unpleasant. The new girl is nice, slowly catching on. The other broker is driving me nuts. It's nice to have a week away from him.

So that's the status. I am looking forward to slowing down and appreciating the Reason for the Season, and enjoying my family.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Crazy (166.4)

2011-12-09T08:04:00.001-06:00

Too much going on at work to post this week. At home I'm too fried to think to post at night. So writing a quick one before work.

I've run twice this week, am eating ok but have slipped up at night, and am keeping my weight down. But, I am a ball of stress and nerves because of all I have going in at work and with kids and with the holidays.

Doesn't help that I have pms and the moon is on its full cycle, which I truly believe, now that I'm paying attention, influences my moods.

Mostly I'm just tired of all the responsibility at work. The new girl has no experience, is very nice and I like her, but it will take a long time for her to get up to speed. I have no control over that situation.

Mark has basically been sick for 2 weeks--with a brief wellness period on the weekend--and that's put a lot on me as well.

Top it off with Christmas chaos and I'm going a bit crazy.

I'm taking the week before Christmas off work. It will be a push to get it all done next week. But there's a light at the end of the tunnel.

Thank you for checking on me, Vickie.

Haven't had a chance to answer your comment on my last post on 20 pounds. I want to get back into my size 8s which means 149-152 lbs. I want to be in the 145-148 range as my "final" goal. Final as in, see how possible it is to maintain that weight long term. I looked great at that weight and ran a Half marathon at a fast for me pace. So that's another 20 pounds to lose.

Now that I'm home, I am also feeling the loss of these 20 pounds. I can run 11:15 minute miles now without walking. My clothes are loose. I'm in 34D bras. As long as I'm not hanging out with size 0s, I feel good about how I look.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

20 pounds

2011-12-03T11:53:00.001-06:00

Today I weighed 166.8, which is 20 pounds lost from my high this year.

My mom saw me this morning when she brought the kids home and her jaw dropped. You're so thin, she said. How'd that happen all of the sudden?

I said it didn't happen all of a sudden. I've been working on it since July. It's just now showing. It takes 20 pounds for anyone else to notice.

It was not an encouraging reaction from her. At least I didn't take it that way. Which is no surprise. I am processing how I react to that type of reaction. Right now I'm working on making it a neutral response.

It is what it is. I do not have to internalize it negatively. I can go about my day in a healthy way and let any weird feelings go on their way. They do not need to stick around in my head.

Busy but fun day planned with our family, just the four of us. Putting up the Tree. Watching Christmas movies. Drinking hot chocolate. Running 5 miles this afternoon. Well, I'm running. The kids aren't.

And playing with my new iPhone. Bye bye blackberry!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Done with the plateau (168.2)

2011-11-30T10:19:00.000-06:00

Thanksgiving was fun but exhausting. I didn't eat as healthfully as I'd like, but I kept the quantities in check. I also ran twice--Thursday 4.2 miles and Saturday 6.5 miles.

I really FELT my extra 20 pounds this weekend. I was surrounded by thin women. I'm talking size 0s & 2s. No matter how stupid and counterproductive and harmful it is to compare myself to other women, I still do it. I think it's coded into my DNA.

At any rate, yesterday I weighed 170.2 and decided to be finished with this plateau. I started tracking my calories on an Apple app called "Lose It." I've used it before, so it has a lot of foods already recorded for me. I'm on the 1 pound a week plan, which gives me a budget of 1,587 calories a day. It deducts exercise like most programs do.

I'm not going to get hung up on eating exactly 1,587 calories a day. I want to stay in that range. Some days I'll eat more; some days I'll eat less. Some days I'll eat the exercise calories, and some days (like yesterday, when I was under a net 235 calories b/c I ran 3 miles) I won't.

What I did learn yesterday is why I've been in this plateau for so long. Because I've been eating too much.

This is no big revelation. I've been eating healthy foods but still eating for comfort, especially at night. I've been eating exactly what my body needs to stay in the 168-170 range.

And that's been fine and what I needed for the past few months. Now, though, I'm ready to be done and move on.

I am not looking at December and thinking "oh hell, it's the holidays and there's no way I can stick to a diet now. I will just start in January." That path leads to a 10 pound gain, and I refuse to go there.

I have a goal of being under 160 and in size 10s by my race at the end of February. It's a goal, not a line in the sand. I just need something to work toward.

***
The other broker hired a new assistant last week. I like her. She's here on a conditional basis; trying her out for 30 days before he hires her officially (he found her through an employment agency). She's young and has 2 kids and is recently divorced and has a lot of personal issues that may cause problems with her being reliable. But she also really needs a job. So, time will tell.

I am overwhelmed with the amount of work and activities we have going on. December is insane. I am so thankful I have my running plan and running buddies in town to keep me running. I'm also glad I have gotten into the habit of getting up early, doing my SAD light and Bible reading, getting to work earlier, working out at lunch 3 days a week, getting to bed by 10:30. All those pieces have to stay in place or I will lose it. I am making sure I take care of myself, so I don't lose it.

Happy Thanksgiving

2011-11-24T07:11:00.000-06:00

We're in Indianapolis for Thanksgiving with Mark's family. We got in last night around 10 pm our time (11 pm Indy time). I was awake this morning at 5:30 our time, probably because my body clock is set to that time, and also because I just don't sleep well the first night in a hotel (even with my sleep meds).

Rather than fighting it, I got up, went downstairs to the breakfast area, had as healthy a breakfast as possible, and now getting ready to go running with Kate & her friend Jen. We are doing 4 miles this morning. That will burn about 400-450 calories--which just about equals a slice of pumpkin pie.

Family dinner is late afternoon. I can't wait. I love Mark's family & the time we get to spend with them. His brother & niece (with her fiance) and nephew flew in from Colorado. It's the first Thanksgiving in his sister's new house (she & my BIL moved from Evansville to Indy this year).

My goal for Thanksgiving weekend is to not gain weight, to maintain at 168ish (Tuesday I was 168.6). I'm sure there will be water weight to lose the first few days home, but by the middle of next week I want the scale to read in the 168s. Then, seriously, I want the darn thing to start moving down again.

Goals need a plan, so here's my plan: I'm running today, I'm running 6.5 miles tomorrow or Saturday, and I'm running Sunday morning. I'm going to focus on relationships and conversations and relaxing at dinner, and not be obsessed about eating a piece of every dessert offered (I could skip all the dinner fixings & go right to the sugar, as I'm sure you're not surprised). I know I can't exercise off bad food choices, but I can run so I feel healthy and energized. Nothing keeps me focused on being healthy like a long run.

I brought my hot tea fixings with me to the hotel for my night time relaxation hit, which is what I've been doing at home. I have apples and raw cashews in the hotel for snacks. Travel food is tough. I'm going to do the best I can.

I hope you all have had a wonderful time this Thanksgiving with the people you love.

I'll leave you with this picture that I got from a blogger/Facebook friend. I really have to find this t-shirt. It is my new motto:

Success begets success (168.2)

2011-11-17T14:25:00.001-06:00

When my daughter was a baby, a friend of mine gave me a book called Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child. One of the most important things I learned about babies and sleep is this: sleep begets sleep.

It seems counter intuitive--shouldn't a baby or child sleep better or more if she's tired?  As it turns out, no.  The more well rested a baby is, the easier she falls asleep and the better she stays asleep.

I thought of this "sleep begets sleep" lesson yesterday, and applied it to weight loss. Success begets success.

You'd think that being 20 pounds overweight, tired, out of shape, and unhappy would be all the motivation I'd need to get moving. And, don't get me wrong, those things ARE motivating. But sometimes, in the muck and mire of obesity, it feels impossible to overcome the desire to throw up my hands and say "what the hell, I'm this fat already, what's the difference if I eat junk food or skip my workout today? I'll start tomorrow."

Now that I have lost almost 20 pounds and have been working out regularly for a couple of months... And now that I can feel and see muscles in my quads and calves and shoulders and biceps and triceps... And now that I can run a 10 min mile for half a mile and a 9 min mile for a couple tenths of a mile... I have the kind of motivation that doesn't wait for tomorrow.

Now my motivation is based in success. It's not based in hopelessness any longer.

I keep moving and eating breakfast and cutting back on sugar because I want to be better. I want to be stronger. I want to run faster.

Yes, I want to look better and wear smaller, cuter clothes. But honestly, that's not the core of WHY I'm doing what I'm doing now.

I want to hold onto this feeling of success. I want the fat to come off my body so I can see the cut of my muscles under my skin.  They are MY muscles--I'm earning every ounce of them. I am proud of them and I don't want them buried under a layer of fat.

I want to weigh less so I can run faster. I'm only in competition with myself. I want to run as fast as I did in 2008, when I finished a half marathon in 2:15:42 (the printout of my race results are on my cubicle wall, where they've been since October 14, 2008). I want to run even faster than that someday. I want to run a full marathon in the near future. Running is possible at this weight, and I do it well and (knock wood) without injury. But I can run better when I carry less weight around.  Watch the next to last episode of any of the recent Biggest Loser seasons and you'll know exactly what I mean.

It may seem counter intuitive that becoming and feeling fit and healthy are more motivating than being overweight and out of shape.  But it's not.

It has taken a long time for me to get here, but I feel like I've crossed the tipping point into "success begets success" territory. I'm fighting hard to stay here.

Christmas in November (168.4)

2011-11-15T09:56:00.001-06:00

I'm swamped at work and at home. The busy time of year has begun.

We put up the Christmas decorations this past Saturday--everything but the tree. The weekends are crazy full from now until the end of the year, and it was either start Christmas in November or only put up the tree and no other decorations the weekend after Thanksgiving.

We spent 5 hours getting everything out & decorated & then cleaned up. I brought in the stuff from the garage, Sophie & Luke unloaded all the bins, I decorated the fireplace mantel, and Sophie decorated everything else. We decorated the family room/kitchen and the dining room.

We listened to Christmas music and watched Christmas movies. It was relaxing and fun. There was no pressure, no hurry, no stress. Usually if I do everything in one weekend or sometimes even in one day, it's no fun for anyone because it's just too overwhelming. And some years, I just do the tree because I'm not up for the work involved to do it all.

I've never decorated for Christmas this way before, since I generally dislike decorations going up before Thanksgiving. But it actually put me in a better spirit about the holidays. I don't feel so curmudgeonly about the decorations in the stores or the commercials on TV.

And putting up the tree will be fun and relaxing and a family event. The way it's supposed to be.

***
I had a good weekend, food and exercise wise. I ran 3 miles on Friday after work and 5 miles on Saturday morning. My food wasn't perfect, but it was acceptable and I didn't gain weight over the weekend.

I was a bundle of stress yesterday, and after work I got on the treadmill for 40 minutes. I mostly walked, because I don't want to overdo the running miles and stress out my knees. It was just what I needed to calm my nerves and keep me from raiding the cookies.

Today will be 3 miles of running at the gym. I'm in Week 4 of my half marathon training and haven't missed a training day yet.

The Sun and the Moon

2011-11-11T09:57:00.007-06:00

I took the day off from work today. The kids are off school b/c of Veterans Day, and I really, really needed a day off. Thankfully Mark was okay going to the office by himself.   I slept till 7, did my SAD light and Bible reading, have read a few blog posts, am blogging myself, will run in a bit, and putter around the house. Tonight I'm going out with my girlfriends to a Christmas bazaar and dinner. I'm hoping for a relaxed, peaceful, refreshing day.

It's been a rough week, and my food has been good and bad. I've struggled with night eating (stress eating) this week, a lot.  I ran on Tuesday and took a weights class Wednesday, am running today, and running 5 miles with the girls on Saturday. Exercise has been a constant lately--the whole "a body in motion stays in motion" thing. It really helps.

About work: we still don't have another assistant. Other broker is having a 2nd interview next week, and wants me to sit in. I don't think my opinion matters. He interviewed 3 people. One lady would have been great, at least from her experience. She was middle aged, in her 50s. She's been an assistant to a department head at a University.  The girl he wants to bring back for a 2nd interview is 25, has kids, is working on her degree, but is "more bubbly" than the other 2 women. More bubbly. This is his criteria for hiring someone. I'm sure she's prettier, too. I told him my opinion--that hiring someone strictly on personality and "bubbly" is a bad idea. It doesn't matter. This is not something I can fight. It is his assistant. Mark & I are working toward leaving this office in the near term, anyway, so I am not invested in his decision. It is HIS decision, not mine. I just want to get someone in there so I don't have to do his work anymore and so I can take time off without my husband being stuck in the office by himself.

OK, enough of that. Onto today's post.

A Facebook friend posted about the full moon the other day, about how much it affects her mood and attitude. She is a very positive, effervescent, happy, open soul who I only know from High School but would love to know in person.

Her post about the moon garnered a lot of comments. People in medical and psychiatric fields confirmed that activity increased around the time of the full moon.  There may or may not be scientific evidence on how the moon affects people, but there is a boat load of anecdotal evidence.

She posted this three days before the full moon, which is today. I started examining my feelings and behavior--and those of my daughter, who is also very sensitive--and how they've been difficult this week. I've felt SAD symptoms of listlessness, tiredness, depression. I've binged on sugar. I've been moody and on edge and bitchy. I had to take half a xanax on two mornings because I was wound up so tight.

I've always explained these feelings and behavior on hormones or food intake or lack of sleep or stress or lack of sunlight or lack of exercise (basically any lack in self-care). And all these things DO affect me. I'm not dismissing them or diminishing their importance.

I know all about how the sun affects me. I know how weather systems affect me. I've never looked at how the moon might be affecting me.

The first website I pulled up on the moon's cycles had this to say about the lunar cycle:

Astrology and the Lunar Cycle
Aside from the scientific explanation, the term "moon cycle" is often heard in astrological circles. According to astrology, the moon's cycle can affect the way we feel about things. In particular, when the moon is full or new, both males and females can experience dramatic changes in their mood and behavior.

When the moon is full, stress becomes a major factor and people become more sensitive to details. An overload of work will add to the frustration and people will deal with their own needs rather than paying attention to others' needs. Often, a lack of assertiveness will be obvious.

A new moon brings with it the sense of calmness. In this moon cycle, people's emotions get back to normal, their determination will return with the feeling that anything can be accomplished, and there will be more energy and acceptance of other other's ideas.

Now, I am not into astrology. I don't read my horoscope, and never have. So I don't see these explanations as "astrology" in the traditional sense. Maybe they are, and maybe it's hooey. But it sure as heck struck a major chord with me.

I go through these cycles. I feel these feelings acutely. My rationale on the moon being at least partially responsible for the state of my being is this: if the moon can move the oceans, then surely it can move me, as well.

In my eyes, this is one more tool for me to use to get through the rough times. It is one more way for me to 1) tell myself that what I'm going through is temporary, 2) prepare myself ahead of time for dealing with these feelings, especially at the full moon, and 3) honor the fact that not everything that happens inside of me is in my control.

That last one could be seen as a cop out. But to me, it gives me a small sense of peace. I can't always Make Myself Well. (Do you remember the movie Mask, with Cher? When her son would fall sick, he would chant to himself "make myself well, make myself well." Sometimes it worked; sometimes he was helpless.) Sometimes I feel helpless, and all I can do is wait it out.

That doesn't give me permission to descend into a binge or self-pity. On the contrary. It gives me an added responsibility, to myself and my family, to take extra care of myself, to be generous and loving to myself, and to remember to pause before I say the wrong thing or take the wrong action. I'm often emotionally unstable during these times, and it can affect those around me significantly (in other words, I can be a real pain in the butt to live and work with, and for the sake of those I love, I have to work on toning my frustrations down to a healthy and kind level).

But it does give me permission to not expect so much from myself. The times I feel like that, it is freeing to know that I AM OK, even if I'm not being Super Mom and Super Wife and Super Employee. I don't have to be Super at all.

So that's all the full moon bad stuff. The good news is--the days before and after the new moon can make me feel strong. I definitely have times of feeling amazing energy, strength, and invincibility. I checked, and the new moon is at Thanksgiving and Christmas this year. That's something to look forward to!

Difficult days

2011-11-08T09:58:00.000-06:00

I've had a rough few days. The time change kills me. I'm also hormonal. We had a very full weekend (it was Luke's birthday Sunday). I skipped my SAD light treatments on Saturday and Sunday (b/c of time constraints).

All this, plus the availability of cake and pizza on Saturday and Sunday, has had me In The Sugar for 3 solid days.

Sugar makes me mean and miserable. And bloated. And tired. And gain weight.

Sugar's pull is so strong. I am nearly helpless to avoid it when I am weak in other areas--like the time change, hormones, and next to no down time.

I have been exercising. I worked out 5 times last week, including running 5 miles (in an hour.... I am getting faster and stronger) and an hour-long yoga class on Saturday. Saturday morning is pretty much the last time I felt good.

I didn't bother weighing this morning. I was so bloated I knew it would just further depress me.

I am working today to get back on track and back to my healthy normal. I started the day off with a good breakfast. I have a good lunch ready. I don't have dinner planned yet, and I need to go to the store tonight after work. I am running today at lunch.

I did my SAD light at work yesterday, and at home this morning. I still feel like I'm jet lagged from the time change and I'm feeling SAD symptoms--listless, unmotivated, tired, moving through mud, moody.

I'm just not in a good place right now. Getting out of the sugar is KEY. Being in the sugar makes everything worse. It's a vicious cycle.

Halloween 2011

2011-11-02T10:41:00.000-05:00

My post for today is below. Thought you'd enjoy some pics from the weekend.

Peter Pan and Captain Hook (this is a man's Hook coat...it makes me look bigger than I really am. Of course, I'd fixate on that instead of how awesome we look!). This was taken at our church friends' house after our dinner with them Friday night. We got ready there. I don't have a white wall in my house, ha.

Hermione Granger and Captain Rex (storm trooper)

They are having a battle... Sophie flying on her broom stick with her hand, and Luke battling back with his light saber. It was the perfect night to trick or treat. They had a great time.

Update on my back, neck, arm (169.2)

2011-11-02T10:12:00.001-05:00

I've spent a good deal of time and money this year dealing with my neck, upper back, and arm injuries and pain. The problems mostly stemmed from poor placement of my computer at work, a worn-out office chair, and carrying too much weight on the crook of my left arm.

My physical therapist worked through the majority of these issues, helping heal the nerve in my arm with ultrasound treatments and giving me exercises to do at home. The cost for PT came out of my insurance deductible, and it was not cheap. In other words, I have an investment in my body that I need to maintain.

At work I elevated my laptop to eye level, got an external keyboard and mouse, added a keyboard tray to my desk, and got a new chair. I pieced them together one at a time, but it took ALL of those things combined to finally eliminate the painful knots in my neck and upper back. In only a couple of weeks with the new chair and keyboard tray, the pain completely went away.

My left arm is taking longer to heal. I damaged the nerve at the crook in my arm, and my PT said it could take well over 6 months to completely heal.

Lesson for you all--don't be a "one trip wonder" when carrying in your groceries, loading tons of weight on your arms. You will eventually cause serious damage.

If I overuse it, mostly when doing free weights classes, it gets tender and slightly weaker. So I'm careful about bicep work and not loading up the bar with too much weight.

I am careful about adjusting my chair in different positions throughout the day. I also pay close attention to my posture in the car now, keeping my abs tucked in and my shoulders back against the seat.

Running regularly is also improving my back and posture. When I run, I focus on keeping my shoulders down and in my "back pockets." Running motions from my arms moving strengthen my upper back significantly, too.

The quality of my life has significantly improved because I'm not in continual pain and stress everyday.

It took years for the small things to build up and cause injuries. None of this stuff bothered me in my 30s. I had used my laptop as it was for over 4 years before I had problems with my neck.

Many small changes resulted in big results. It was no One Thing, and it took trial and error to figure it all out.

There's a bigger lesson to be learned from this, too. Many small changes--baby steps--can impact every area of my life. I have much more to work on, a little at a time.

A great run (169.0)

2011-10-28T15:10:00.000-05:00

I wasn't able to run yesterday, because the dog needed to go to the vet (she was limping on the knee that had the ACL repaired last year--she now has arthritis) at lunch and had to be picked up after work. So, no run.

But today I went at lunch, and it was fabulous. 3.25 miles in 37:42, which is an 11:36 pace--my best this year. The last .25 miles I was at a 10:07 pace, and I felt strong the whole time.

Yesterday was a crappy food day, though. Just when I feel cocky about how well I'm doing, I have a day that knocks me for a loop. I know what the problem was. I had a lot of emotional stress, between work and the dog and an emotional talk with my daughter and the back-to-back dreary days. I was nonstop busy all day long. And I didn't get my run in.

I had choir practice at 7, ran to the grocery after, got a call from Mark at 8:20 telling me Sophie was crying and both the kids wanted to see me before they went to sleep. I dug down and found some inner peace to give to both my kids when I got home a few minutes later, even though I didn't really have it in me.

I hadn't eaten dinner before I left for choir. That, plus all of the above, set me up for a binge last night. It could have been worse, but it was still a binge.

Vickie has some great links I read today (this one and this one) that helped me deal with what happened last night. I already feel more positive about moving forward from the errors of yesterday. Day has been much better.

No cookies. Feeling strong. (167.8)

2011-10-27T09:52:00.000-05:00

Second day in a row at 167.8.

Second night with no cookies.

Seriously, just fessing up and examining it on the blog helps me tremendously.

Shining light on the problem, not hiding and pretending like it's not happening, admitting there is a problem....the first steps to healing.

I listened to myself when I wanted cookies on Tuesday night. It was a knee jerk reaction--"the kids are in bed and I'm finally DONE for the day" reaction. Cookies = comfort. I had an apple and a cup of hot tea instead.

I wanted cookies again when I woke up in the middle of the night to pee. I just went straight back to bed, ignoring the pull of the kitchen.

Then Wednesday night, we got the kids in bed earlier, and I wasn't as stressed out at my bedtime. I had hot tea again while in bed watching "Breaking Bad" on Netflix, and it helped again. No cookies. Had to pee again in the night and was so sleepy I just stumbled back to bed, no thought of the cookies.

Breaking a bad habit is a lot about replacing that habit with good ones.

It also helps that I've been working out hard, and I don't want to ruin all my good work with a stupid cookie binge.

Weights class yesterday at lunch was awesome. I need to increase my weights--they were getting too easy. That's always a great sign. Running again today, then rest tomorrow (I thought I'd do weights again on Friday afternoons, but my knees can't handle it, considering I have a long run on Saturday mornings), then the Saturday long run, then either rest or a weights or pilates class on Sunday, depending on how the day shakes out and how my body is feeling.

Right now, my body feels nothing but strong. It ROCKS to feel this way. And it just makes me want more.

You're coming into focus, kid (168.4)

2011-10-25T13:50:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite movies is Joe vs. the Volcano. I first saw it when Mark & I were dating. I have seen it multiple times since, and Mark & I have quotes that we sometimes use to joke with each other. Like "these lights are suck, suck, sucking the life out of me" and "that outfit is wearing you, Felix" and "I'm not arguing that with you."

If you've seen the movie a bajillion times, these will mean something to you. Chances are, you haven't, so watch it the next time it comes on cable.

One of the quotes that hit me yesterday was "You're coming into focus, kid." The limo driver who takes Joe to the airport (for his trip to an island in the Pacific where he's planning to jump into a volcano) says it after he takes Joe to get new clothes and his hair cut. Tom Hanks is transformed from an unhealthy looking sad sack of a man, to the handsome Tom Hanks of the late 1990s.

Yesterday, I felt like that. I felt like I was coming into focus.

I can feel my bicep muscles now, and there's a nice cut when I flex. Same with my triceps and shoulders. My back fat rolls are completely gone; no more muffin top either. My upper body shapes up pretty quickly once I start the workouts, which I've been doing fairly regularly since the first part of September.

My running pace is a minute faster (yesterday, it was 12:38 for a 3.25 mile run) than it was a couple months ago . I did (a slow) 5 miles on Saturday with my friends, and it was almost too easy. I just finished a pilates class, where we used a big ball, and I could keep up with everything. It was challenging, but I could do it all.

I feel stronger, I feel thinner, I feel like I'm going to be able to reach my goals in the foreseeable future.

So, what are my goals? It's nice to have some again.

Weight loss wise, I'd like to be at 160 by Thanksgiving, although realistically it will likely be 162 or 163. I'll be happy with that. I want to weigh 155 by my race in February. I think that's totally doable. That weight is important because it affects my running pace significantly.

I don't know what my "final" weight will be. I want my saddle bags to be nearly gone. I want a normal shaped body, proportionate all over. Whatever weight that ends up being is what I want to weigh. I do know that I still had significant weight in my hips when I weighed 146, so I'm guessing it will be below that. I have no idea when I'll hit this weight. It may be next summer, it may be in 2 or 3 years, or it may take longer. Depends on how hard I work for it and how my body cooperates. Time doesn't matter. I just want to get there by consistently moving forward.

Running wise, I want to run an avg 11:00 min/mile for my long runs. I want to run an avg 10:30 min/mile on my short runs. These paces are only possible when I have less weight to carry around. Eventually, I want to run a full marathon, maybe in 2013.

Food wise, I want to kick my darn cookie habit. I don't know what the problem is--muscle memory, sugar memory, comfort habit? Probably those and more. I almost always have 3 or 4 cookies right before I go to bed. Yes, I realize how stupid this is and how destructive this is for weight loss. Yes, I realize I could put the cookies somewhere I can't get to them. It's more than behavior modification or mind games. I need to figure out why I still eat them, after having a well-fed and productive and happy day. Just writing about it here will help me work on it, I'm sure.

Still busy at work, still busy at home, still maintaining mostly healthy habits, including my SAD light--which I consider one of the most critical to my overall health. Lunch time workouts are fortunately completely doable most days. I've already run and taken pilates, and it's only Tuesday! More running Thursday, weights class Friday, running Saturday. It's all good.

Would you like plastic with that oatmeal? (167.4)

2011-10-21T10:20:00.000-05:00

Because of my new work schedule, I've been having to eat part of my breakfast at work. I usually have my homemade soy latte, an egg & a few bites of oatmeal at home, then bring the rest of my oatmeal to work & finish it at my desk. This is a new routine for me; I usually only eat a snack and lunch at work.

Last week I reheated my oatmeal in a plastic glad ware container, and the whole thing tasted like burnt plastic. Blech.

I know reheating food in plastic is a horrible idea. At home I don't, but at work I will sometimes heat anything that won't stay on a paper plate in the glad ware containers I bring the food in.

After the oatmeal incident, I decided it was time to invest in glass containers.

I've looked at them at Target before, but they were a fortune. I found a set on Amazon called Snapware for $45. There were mixed reviews about the durability of the lids and the glass, and indeed, the large container arrived with one of the snaps broken off. It wasn't a huge deal--it's not a container I'd bring with me to work, which is the only time I need seal-tight lids--so I just kept it and didn't bother with a return. I needed the containers right away.

The rest of the bowls and rectangular dishes have been great. They seal tight and don't leak, they have gone through a couple dishwasher cycles & the seals are still OK. I haven't broken any yet. I'm very happy to have the set and glad I won't be filling our bodies with toxic plastic any more.

Any my oatmeal this morning tastes like oatmeal (and pumpkin and peanut butter and cinnamon, 'cause that's how I roll).

***
My weight yesterday was 167.4, too. I had lunch with friends at Panera yesterday, 2/3rds of a chicken salad sandwich, and I expected my weight to bump up today. I was surprised & happy it stayed the same. It's my lowest weight yet this year. I'm half a pound away from losing 20 pounds.

My clothes are fitting better and better, and I'm feeling better. I really want to be in size 10s by Thanksgiving. I have very few fall clothes in 12s, and am just wearing the same clothes over and over (I barely have enough to get through one week without doing laundry, but I manage) until I lose more weight. I have two pairs of jeans in 10s but nothing else for fall, so I'll have to buy a few pieces when I get to 160. I'm looking forward to it.

To that end, I'm working out regularly now. Pilates on Tuesday, weights at lunch and a 75 minute walk at night with my friend Debra on Wednesday, weights tonight, and a 5 mile run tomorrow morning with the girls. Princess Half Marathon (in February) training starts this weekend; it's the first time I'll train for a race with other women, and I'm really excited about that. I can FINALLY share my love for running with friends In Real Life. Hooray for exercise!

Safe at this size (168.0)

2011-10-19T09:15:00.000-05:00

I've been bopping around 170 pounds for a couple of months now. Last week I started thinking about the Why of this plateau.

And I realize it's not a long plateau and not (necessarily) a big deal, but I'd still call it a plateau.

When I first started writing this blog, I regularly read a blog by Jonathan. He wrote the best explanation of what a plateau is (back in 2006... how quickly time passes) that I've ever read. The key point is this:

‘When you are experiencing a true plateau –that is, you are not gaining, and you are not losing– it is the result of the fact that your desire to change is exactly equal to your desire to stay the same.’

This Truth has nothing to do with playing scale games, making up excuses like "I'm building muscle and that's why I'm not losing weight" or "I'm eating too many carrots" (which some weight counselor once told a blogger was why she wasn't losing weight).

It's an in-your-face, look at what you're really doing kind of explanation for a plateau.

I am at that point of exactly equal.

My desire to stay the same stems from:

I don't feel obese anymore. Size 12 is average. I am still overweight, but I can run and lift weights and hold my body weight in pilates. I'm not eating sugar or processed foods as my main meals (although my nights are still a problem as far as that goes). My husband likes the way I look. And I feel good.

But all that combined isn't the true, deep down reason for staying this weight. The real reason is that I feel SAFE at this size.

Nobody comments on my body or my clothes. Nobody asks if I've lost weight. Nobody asks me about diets or exercise or "what's your secret?"

At this size, I'm still invisible.

Understand, though, that Safe isn't where I want to be. Safe is not a happy place. The need to feel Safe stems from childhood damage and comments from men I received when I was thin in 2008 and recent issues with my uncle. I wrote in detail about the need to be invisible here.

Deep down, who I want to be is what Vickie described in her zip line post (which I found easily because Vickie is the Queen of Tags, and yes indeed, she has a tag for "zip line." Love it). I want to feel like this, as Vickie wrote in this post:

"I am not an average person.

That illusive "normal' that bloggers often think about wanting to be.

I am above, beyond, better than a 'normal' person. Because the average joe in line at the license bureau is a 'normal person'.

And what I do to take care of myself is beyond what those people know, do, understand.

And what I have, physically and emotionally is (in my opinion) beyond what they have too."

Getting beyond Safe is, I believe, going to take some more therapy sessions. I don't know any other way to get past it. I had the breakthrough of understanding a few months ago. Now I need the breakthrough of change, so that I can get my head around learning to live beyond Safe, beyond Normal.

Deep down, I know I can be that person. Now to start digging through the layers to bring that deep down belief to the surface.

Making the most of it (169.2)

2011-10-13T10:48:00.000-05:00

Tuesday was the worst day, as far as this work thing goes. My knee jerk reactions went into my post Tuesday, and I did FEEL all those things at the time, but my first reactions were more dire, I suppose, than reality.

I'm still not happy with the situation, but I'm setting boundaries and I'm determined to take care of myself.

Boundary example:
The broker I'm working with now asked me to access his calendar for client meetings and to see what his schedule is so I can see who he's meeting with and schedule appointments for him. I will not do this for him. I asked him to get me names & dates in advance so I can prep his account review material. He is calling his own clients back when there are issues. I've heard how he deals with Sara on his calendar--it has been a source of conflict for them, and I'm not getting involved in that.

I am only doing "account" work for him. I will not do personal chores for him. If it's related to sales or service, I will help. Anything else, I'm telling him I'm not comfortable handing that (such as entering his business and personal expenses from his bank account into Quicken).

I'm tracking every minute I touch the other broker's business. My goal is not to work more than 3.5 hours a day (half my day) on his business, so that I don't feel like I am short changing our business.

Taking care of myself:
Since I have to be here regular business hours, I'm taking a lunch like regular business hours people do. I never took lunch when I came in at mid-morning, of course. The past two days, my lunch has been working out at the gym. Pilates on Tuesday, Weights class on Wednesday. Those two classes are 45 minutes to accommodate the lunch hour. Lunch classes are only on Tues & Wed, so I will be going to the gym and walking or running the other days.

My plan is to go 4 or 5 days each week. I told Mark I need this hour away from the office to maintain my sanity. I eat lunch at my desk when I get back from the gym. I change my clothes at work in the bathroom, drive 5 minutes to the gym, workout, drive back, change back into work clothes (sweaty but not stinky :). Total time is about 65 minutes. Totally worth it.

This morning I got up at 5:30 and did my SAD light/Bible reading time. That helped center my day.

I haven't been able to eat breakfast at home, though. I need to get up at 5:00 or 5:15 if I want to eat at home (at least, I haven't figured out any other way yet). I had coffee (1 c. soy milk and espresso) at home, then had steel cut oats with PB and berries at 8:15. I need to work on breakfast, b/c I'm not happy with the late hour and the lack of significant protein. It's all part of the adjustment process.

Thank you for all your words of encouragment and support.

Big change at work (170.0)

2011-10-11T11:44:00.000-05:00

The other assistant in the office quit yesterday. She was totally justified in quitting. If I were her, I would have left her boss years and years ago. I don't know how she stood it for 8 years. I am not upset with her in the least. I know whatever she ends up doing, she will be happier with.

But, I am now the solo assistant to my husband and the other advisor in the office.

Needless to say, my work load is increasing substantially, and there's a big learning curve because they do things differently than we do.

This is an unwelcome change, to say the least. My hours at the office are increasing, my flexibility is decreasing, my patience is being tested.

The advisor treats me with respect, at least he always has in the past (I am, afterall, the wife of the branch manager and Mark & he have been friends for over 20 years). Hopefully that will continue. Who knows how long this situation will last. I doubt that he'll be that motivated to hire someone while I'm doing so much for him.

Yes, he's paying me (us, really.... when I'm working for him, I'm not taking care of Mark's & my clients), by the hour. I'm tracking my hours on a spreadsheet.

I won't do a lot of the personal stuff he had his previous assistant do. I'm being very clear about what I need from him to do things he needs done the right way.

The problem is, things go in one ear and out the other with him. I've seen it & heard it for almost 5 years of working in this office. I'm going to have to take extra care to cover my butt.

This is a HUGE test of my patience and Christian attitude toward someone I don't particularly like (and often, can absolutely not stand at all). I'm having to hold my tongue already; the past few months of therapy and blog writing have, in a big way, prepared me for this situation.

I don't know when I'll be on here next. I don't like to blog at night--I'm on this thing all day long, the last thing I want to do at home is get back on my computer. Hopefully it will be soon.

One year later.... graces, big and small (170.6)

2011-10-07T15:49:00.001-05:00

Today is the anniversary of my dad's death. That day marked the end of the most difficult, challenging, gut-wrenching year of my life.

The 12 months that have passed since his death have been full of significant changes for me. I've written about those changes as they've happened, here on my blog. I don't want to go through a list of them today.

Today I want to talk about all the grace I now see at work in my life.

Last Friday I had an extremely frustrating day. Nothing was going right. I had a long list of things I needed to get done at work, but I got sidelined with an unexpected client issue instead.  I also had email and computer problems that day. I banged my head against the wall for hours, getting nowhere. It was very frustrating, and I broke down at one point because I felt so out of control and helpless.

At the end of the day when I was on my way home, it hit me--I haven't had a bad day like that in a very, very long time. From January 2010 to October 7, 2010, I had bad days (and worse days) several times a week. Sometimes entire weeks were bad like that.

I can look back now and acknowledge how utterly horrible the year of Dad's illness was. If God only gives you what you can handle...well, he pushed me to the very edge.

I can look at today and see clearly that I am happy. I am blessed. More often than not, I am filled with peace.

Even when I have a bad day like last week, it's nothing compared to the turmoil I suffered before.

And that's where the Big Grace comes in. Because of the year of Dad's illness, I have the ability to look at "bad days" and not let them wreck me.   It's not a "my dad is in a nursing home unable to move a muscle, bitter and angry and blaming me for putting him there" day. It's just one bad day.

A few other Big Graces:

My husband and kids are healthy. I am healthy. We have a warm, safe home. We have decent clothes. We have food in the fridge and the cupboards.

My relationship with my mom is healing and much stronger. Not because she has changed, but because I have changed.

I'm on the right medication to keep my moods stable. I am not suffering from SAD symptoms because I am treating it with light therapy. I am sleeping well.

There are so many more--Mark passed the CFP exam, we are making a living and can pay the bills, I am cooking and buying fresh foods every week (& Mark is eating what I make) and we rarely eat out anymore.

The Small Graces are things like this:

This Sunday is the Half Marathon that I've run the past 3 years. My coworker Sara is walking it--it's her first half. She's so excited, and I'm excited for her. I'm also pea green with envy. I wish I'd trained.  I want the t-shirt, the medal, the 5 gallon bucket (that's the bling every year--a 5 gallon bucket... only in the Mid West :). I want the thrill of the accomplishment of 13.1 miles.

Yesterday morning I was so tempted to sign up & just do it, conditioning be darned. I schemed about what I'd have to do to swing it.... I'd need a sub for my Sunday school class, which wouldn't be that hard. But I'd also have to skip singing in the choir. We only have 4 sopranos, so me skipping would leave a small hole in the choir that would make me feel bad without giving the director prior notice (we can miss, he just asks for advance notice so he knows what music to plan for). I'd also have to walk a lot of the race, which wouldn't necessarily mean I'd finish injury free.

I had a very small PLUS column, and a long MINUS column. The answer was obvious. By the end of the day, I was pouting because I couldn't do the race.

Then last night at choir practice, we rehearsed our anthem for this Sunday. Great Is Thy Faithfulness. One of my favorite hymns ever. The arrangement is beautiful and has wonderful soprano sections. Vocally, it's simple but challenging.

Our choir director is a professor of music at the private university in town, and he is also the conductor of our city's Philharmonic Chorus. He conducted at Carnegie Hall this year; he's extraordinarily talented. He brings out the best in us. It's a privilege to sing in his choir.

Normally we sing in a choir loft at the back of the sanctuary, so the congregation doesn't see us (we see the backs of their heads, except when someone occasionally turns around to look at us if we are singing really, really well). This anthem is best sung with a piano instead of an organ, so we are singing at the front of the sanctuary with the grand piano. We only sing up front a few times a year. I love singing in front of the congregation. Not because they can see us, but because I can see everyone's faces when we sing.

I won't be disappointed that I'm not running on Sunday morning, because I will be overflowing with joy when I'm singing the words of this hymn. This is a small grace, but it means so much to me.

"Great is Thy faithfulness," O God my Father,
There is no shadow of turning with Thee;
Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not
As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be.

"Great is Thy faithfulness!" "Great is Thy faithfulness!"
Morning by morning new mercies I see;
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided—
"Great is Thy faithfulness," Lord, unto me!

Summer and winter, and springtime and harvest,
Sun, moon and stars in their courses above,
Join with all nature in manifold witness
To Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth,
Thy own dear presence to cheer and to guide;
Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,
Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!

A year ago, I don't think I could have sung this song without breaking down and sobbing, mostly because I was sobbing almost every day anyway. Two weeks ago when we first practiced this anthem, my voice did break a few times. It's still very emotional for me, even reading the words now.

"Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow."

I'm stronger because of all I've gone through. I feel like it's my tomorrow--filled with bright hope--at last.

Blessings, grace, and peace. I can't ask for more.

the insanity will be over soon (171.2)

2011-10-03T14:02:00.000-05:00

The stress is starting to get to me. I had sugar this weekend, and it turned me into quite the bitchy wife & mom. Not pretty. Yes, it was a good lesson. Sugar makes me miserable. But it also soothes the pain, like a drug. It is a vicious master. I'm tired of learning the lesson over and over again. I just need to remember the awfulness of its affects and stop myself before I start.

Weekends seem to be harder for me, because they are less structured. Something I need to work on... but it's hard to be continually "working on" stuff, you know? I just want some mindless down time. Mindless down time is often when the sugar crazies hit.

I kept thinking of it as "demon sugar," because I am a big fan of the series "Boardwalk Empire," which is set during the temperance movement in Atlantic City. The movement to get rid of "demon liquor" was obviously not successful, and mostly inflamed organized crime and the mob.

There will never be a movement to rid the world of demon sugar, but I do want to rid myself of it. I failed this weekend.

It's not hopeless by any means. I'm eating real meals--but I am letting the stress consume me at night and I am obviously not yet impervious to my drug of choice.

I have a lot going on between now and Friday. I will likely not be around much until then.

I may get to take a yoga class tonight. I'm hoping to at least squeeze in some exercise to alleviate some of the stress and anxiety.

I am going to eat the best that I can, and go to bed on time, and take care of myself, and work really hard to do all these things so I don't lose it again.

Busy, busy, busy (169.2)

2011-09-28T11:01:00.000-05:00

I'm swamped, but checking in because I'm back under 170.

I also wanted to report my recent workouts:
Saturday, 5 miles in 65 minutes (13:00 min/mile)
Monday, 3 miles in 37 minutes (12:20 min/mile)
Tuesday, Group Power free weights

I am quite sore today. I will be more sore tomorrow.

I am walking with my friend Debra tonight, for at least an hour, maybe more if she can hang with me. (the kids go to a two-hour church kids' night for every other Wednesday)

Next week after our annual audit is over, I will have room to breathe.

In the mean time, I am keeping up my healthy habits (eating well, morning light therapy, taking all my supplements, getting to bed early, doing chores a little at a time so I don't get behind, weighing myself every morning) so that I can survive the chaos with grace.

Turning Weaknesses into Strengths (170.2)

2011-09-27T12:01:00.000-05:00

I often curse my weaknesses, wishing I was something better or different than what I am.

As I grow older and more mature, and just plain more experienced and appreciative of who I am, it is being revealed to me that the very weaknesses I see are leading to strengths.

Here are a few.

*Weakness: I have struggled with Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) for years. Last year was one of the worst. It can sometimes be crippling, and I have hated this disorder and what it does to me for a long time.

This year, I have prepared myself by investing in a quality light therapy box and started light therapy two weeks ago. Every morning I sit in front of this light for 30 minutes.

Strength: I don't just sit for 30 minutes, though. I am reading my Bible. I go to church on Sundays, I teach the 2-3 year old Sunday School class, and I sing in the choir. But my relationship with God often feels "one way"--like I send out my requests and pleas for help, but I don't take the time to listen or accept the gift of his Word.

These past two weeks have not only helped eliminate my SAD symptoms--truly, the light therapy is proving remarkable for my energy level--but my faith and relationship with God is being strengthened.

Because of SAD, I am growing in my faith in a way I would never have made time for without the excuse of light therapy.

*Weakness: My hips and thighs. My rear view is THE reason I want to lose more weight. If I were proportional and didn't have the ugly fat pockets of my saddlebags, I would most likely be happy with my weight and wearing size 12s.

*Strength: Because I want to get rid of this fat permanently, I am eating healthier than I ever have. My mood is better and more stable. My skin, hair and nails are stronger and clearer. Certainly there are internal organs that are getting healthier, too.

I'm exercising because I want the fat gone forever, but exercise will make my bones stronger and my muscles grow, so that when I'm 80 I can get myself up and down without assistance.

Because of my saddlebags, I'm making changes that will help me live longer for my kids and grandkids.

*Weakness: I have emotional damage from my childhood that has negatively influenced the last 30 years of my life. The primary reason for my obesity is because of what happened to me when I was 12 years old. There are issues other than weight that resulted from my childhood baggage--fear, anxiety, OCD, the need for control, attachment issues.... there are certainly more.

*Strength: I found an amazing therapist this year, who has helped me work through all these issues. Because I had this baggage to work through and heal, I now have more patience for others when they are struggling. I have a better skill set to help my kids deal with their concerns. I am learning to be a better listener, a better wife, a better sister, a better daughter, and a better friend.

Weakness doesn't have to derail me. It doesn't mean failure. It doesn't mean inferior. It doesn't mean hopeless.

Weakness allows me to examine the why's of my life. Socrates said "the unexamined life isn't worth living." Therefore, because of weakness, my life is worth living.

Weakness is an opportunity to let something new happen in my life. And that something new may be beyond anything I could ever hope for or imagine.

Checking in (170.8)

2011-09-23T12:29:00.000-05:00

I'm fine, doing OK, but stupidly busy.

I'm actually a bit overwhelmed by everything I need to get done in the next two weeks -- work obligations, mostly, but also a church project and busy weekends. Our calendar is already filling up through the end of the year. Crazy!

Everything kind of hit me last night and I had a cookie binge (7 oreos and 2 chips ahoys). Thank you, sugar and fat, for the weight uptick this morning.

I haven't exercised all week. I did great for two weeks, now this week--nada. Tomorrow I've put on my calendar (and Mark's) that I'm meeting a group of girls for coffee at 7:30 a.m, then I am going to a Group Power (free weights) class at 10 a.m. I'm planning to hit the treadmill or the pavement in between for some cardio. I cannot wait. I need the restorative power of both the Adult Intelligent Female IRL conversation and the physical activity.

If I'm sparsely present in the next couple of weeks, it's not because I've given up on the healthy life or I don't care about my blog or yours. It's because I'm working really hard to keep my head above water. Hopefully I'll have more time than I think and will be on here as often as possible, but I'm planning for the worst and hoping for the best.

I hope you are enjoying the almost-fall weather. I certainly am, even if it's just gazing out the window occasionally and not sweating my butt off walking from the car to the indoors.

Weight loss to date and no one has noticed (or at least, no one has commented to me) (168.6)

2011-09-21T11:18:00.002-05:00

On April 19, I hit my highest weight this year of 186.8. I've now lost 18.2 pounds. 10% of my highest weight, which in WW land is a big milestone.

I started acupuncture and therapy in April. I lost 7 pounds in 2 months, then I started taking lamotrigene and also started the Kay Shepperd plan in June.

Since then, I've lost another 11.2 pounds in 3 months.

I've gone from a tight size 14 to now wearing size 12s comfortably.

Slow & steady. Working to win the race.

Interestingly, no one (other than my mom, unprompted, and my husband, prompted--because I want to know if he can tell) has commented on my weight loss this go round.

Which is fine--honestly I'd rather they not mention it. I don't want the attention (I've got that invisibility issue I'm aware of but not sure how I'm going to handle when/if it comes up again). Nobody commented on the weight as it was coming back on (thank goodness), and I'm fine with nobody commenting as it comes off.

But it's perplexing. Is it because it's not noticeable yet? Is it because they don't want to mention it for the same reason I don't want them to mention it? Is it because most people have better things to do than ponder whether I'm losing weight?

Is it because there really isn't much difference in how I look from a size 14 to 12? (this is, I'm guessing, most likely the reason).
I'm not sure what it means (if anything) that I am even noticing that no one has commented. This is a weird thought process. I am making myself dizzy.

Guess it's better to just keep my head down, do the work, get healthy & feel better, and enjoy the smaller sizes that *I* know are on the tags in my pants. I just needed to get those thoughts out of my head so I can move on.

Avocados (or, The Story of My Hair) (170.0)

2011-09-20T11:34:00.000-05:00

I got my hair cut Friday. When my stylist was drying and hot ironing it, she said it was super healthy & shiny. That's the first time she's observed these things about my hair, or at least the first time she's mentioned it to me.

I smiled & said it's because I've been eating avocados and other healthy fats every day. And I was tickled by this unexpected benefit.

Last week I re-discovered Chocolate Covered Katie's website, and on her FAQ's page she mentions her shiny, healthy hair, and that she eats lots of avocados and other healthy fats. I didn't realize until I read CCK's FAQ's that your hair benefited from eating healthy fats. I just thought they were making me stay fuller longer.

When my stylist mentioned my shiny hair, I knew it was the avocados and nuts I eat every day.

I had never bought an avocado until three months ago, when I started eating whole foods (based on Kay Sheppard's plan). I was a bit intimated at first--they are quite freaky to the ignorant, or at least they were to me, with their strange green/black skins, soft flesh, and humongous stone pit.

But I have since warmed up to this incredible fruit and look forward to having it at breakfast every morning. Some days I'm also inlcuding a small amount in my lunch salad, too.

What a bonus to know that the hair I put through torture every day--blow drying and hot ironing--is strong and healthy thanks to my diet.

Hey (170.6)

2011-09-19T15:23:00.000-05:00

Sorry... weekend was a combination of swamped and lazy, and I never got online.

Today has been nuts. We had a bomb scare at the Armory next to our building, and the police wouldn't let anyone in our building, so I went home and cleaned out Sophie's closet. I'm at work now, but it's crazy so no time to write.

Hopefully I'll be back tomorrow!

When you push through, when it's the hardest, when you most don't wanna but you do it anyway, that's when real change happens (171.8)

2011-09-15T12:41:00.003-05:00

Yesterday I got home and had 45 minutes before we had to be at the kids' Wednesday night church group at 5:30. I had had such a stress filled, anxiety driven day, I was craving a workout. I didn't feel like the treadmill. I couldn't run outside because I had the kids. I decided to do Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred.

This is rather a legendary DVD. But if you're not familiar with it--it's 25 minutes long, consists of a brief warm up, 3 3-part circuits of weights, cardio, and abs, and a brief stretching cool down. This workout never fails to make my muscles burn, and I ache the next day. I'm still on level 1, but there are 3 levels. I tried to do level 3 a few months ago and couldn't get through it, it was so intense.

At one point, Jillian says (the gist of, this isn't word for word) "when it's hard and you push through, that's when real change happens."

I know she's talking about lifting weights and working out. But it got me to thinking about how this applies to other aspects of losing and maintaining weight, and to life in general.

When is it hardest for me? When have I pushed through and made real change happen? What areas am I struggling in and need to push through?

*Breakfast used to be hard. I was in too much of a hurry. I wasn't hungry. I saved my calories for later in the day.

When I committed to eating breakfast--regardless of my hunger or time restraints--I pushed through the (mostly) mental barrier and completely changed how my entire eating day goes. Other than (mostly) eliminating processed foods, eating breakfast every day has done more good for me than anything else.

*Eating "real" food used to be a chore. I was lazy. I claimed to be a lousy cook. I didn't like to grocery shop. I was too tired to make lunch before I left for work or make dinner after I got home from work. I ate out at restaurants or fast food places for more meals than I'd care to admit.

When I committed to the Kay Shepperd food plan, eating real, balanced food 3 times a day at meal time, everything changed. My cravings (except when I deviate from the plan) went away. My PMS has gotten better. My face sweats in the morning have lightened up tremendously. I'm losing weight, slowly and consistently. I don't feel like I'm a slave to food anymore. I am happy with what I eat. I have discovered that I am a good cook, and that meals don't have to be complicated to be delicious. I can prepare healthy meals for myself and my family in about the same time it takes to drive to a restaurant and wait in line (and for much less money).

*My emotional "black boxes" used to keep me safe. I buried the hurtful things of the past, some so deep that I didn't even know what they were. I was afraid to drag them up. Afraid that I wouldn't survive if they were out in the open.

I started seeing a therapist this year, let the light into those black boxes, and I not only survived, I have thrived. I pushed past the pain, found forgiveness, found enlightenment, found peace. I learned the WHY's of my weight gain. I learned the HOW's of being a better person. I learned what forgiveness means. Therapy has been one of the hardest things I've ever done. Some sessions have been brutal. I pushed through (thanks to my brilliant therapist), and I came out stronger and better than I ever imagined.

*I no longer give advice; I listen.

The lesson of un-attaching from other people's lives and circumstances has been one of the most freeing I have ever experienced. It has changed my life, and given me a lightness of being. I can be compassionate without being attached to the outcome. I can listen to others, responding to their words in order to probe how they are feeling, instead of talking about myself. The lesson of "people just want to be heard" is one that can never be repeated often enough. People just want to be heard.

*I have eliminated the words "try" and "someday" and "maybe" from my vocabulary.

When I am tempted to use these words--and yes, this is a constant work in progress--I substitute the words "working on" and "my plan is to" and "I'll think about it/No/Yes." Try is an excuse to fail. Someday is code for never. Maybe almost always means no. Some people may say this is just semantics. For me, it is a way of thinking about life that is more positive. Words are powerful. Choosing words carefully affects our thoughts. These new words allow my thoughts to not hang on the future, the indefinite, the coulda/woulda/shoulda's. And my thoughts either lead me to action or inaction.

Where do I still need to push through?

I still struggle with night time munchies. It's not as bad as it used to be, but it is a pattern and a habit that I have not pushed past--I have not allowed my brain to be retrained into a new neuropathway. This food habit, more than anything, hampers my weight loss and my complete sense of peace with my way of eating.

I still struggle with regular exercise. This is getting better over the past two weeks. I know it's in me to make time for myself--I've done it before. It is still a matter of pushing through the "I don't wanna's." Every time I lace up my running shoes, I take a step closer to real change.

I still struggle with keeping my mouth shut when it's not my business. Yes, I have improved the attitude of being attached to people's outcomes. But I still say things to others that are best left unsaid. I still jump to give my opinion, when what the person I am talking with only wants a listening ear. This is something I struggle with daily, and I plan to catch myself more and more.

I still struggle with negative thoughts about myself. I am my worst critic. I see the negatives much quicker than the positives. I regularly engage in negative self talk. Words are powerful. The words I speak to myself every moment of the day are powerful.

I still struggle--tremendously--with envy. This could be a blog post unto itself. One of my worst faults, or struggles, is not being able to deal with other people's success. I envy women who are thin. I envy runners who are faster than me. I envy women who don't have to work outside the home. I envy the youth of people in their 20s and 30s. On really bad days, I can't read posts on Facebook because it is one happy-joy-joy post after another, and I can't stand it.

I still struggle--tremendously--with comparisons. On the flip side to envy, I am judgmental about people and compare myself favorably to those I think aren't up to my standards. This is a very ugly trait, and one I don't talk about. It's all internal talk--I'm not gossiping about how I think so and so is not doing this or that. On some levels, it's me trying to make myself feel better about my accomplishments or how I raise my kids or how I look. Or it's a form of rationalization, that even if I'm not doing my best, at least I'm not like "that person." Bottom line--it's ugly, it makes me feel ugly, and I want it gone from my thought process.

There is surely more, and there will continue to be more, as I grow and change.

Today, I pushed through the exercise issue by running 4 miles before work. Today, I pushed through my long list of "I struggle with's" by simply writing about them.

If I've learned anything this year, it's this: letting the light in is the first step to real change.

weigh in Wednesday; SAD irritability (170.8)

2011-09-14T15:18:00.000-05:00

I couldn't help it. I got on the scale this morning, out of morbid curiosity and habit.

I think 169 is just around the corner...

I have been very irritable today. I've been hitting a lot of brick walls the past couple of days a work, which are frustrating. I'm behind on laundry at home, I'm worried about some life stuff, I want to work out every day but am having trouble fitting it in like I want to (still no weights or yoga).

It hit me this afternoon that irritability is a side effect of SAD light therapy. At the start anyway. I've been sitting about 30" from the light; they recommend 40" to start. But I figured, hey if 40 is good then 30 will be better, right? Wrong. Going to 40" tomorrow.

I also read some information today that the light needs to come from above your eyes, and not straight on. The light simulates sunlight. The sun is above our eyes. The light receptors are in the bottom of our retinas. So, duh, the light box needs to be above where I'm sitting. I will have to figure out how to position the thing so it works right (which may include buying the stand that goes with it, darn it, but it has to work right or what's the point?). But for now, I'm moving it away from me another 10" so I'm not a grouch again tomorrow.

Food is good today. I'm planning on doing yoga or hitting the TM when I get home after work.

Running bug & my back (no weight today)

2011-09-13T13:28:00.001-05:00

I ran 14 miles last week, during a total of 4 runs. 3 during the week and my 10k race on Saturday.

I should say I "wogged" (walk+jog) 14 miles, because I'm nowhere near a running pace. But it's easier to just say run and it helps me mentally to think of myself as a runner, since that is what I am, even though my pace per mile isn't there. Yet.

Last week gave me the running bug again. I loved how I felt after every run. I had so much energy after the 10k Saturday (thank you endorphins), that when I got home I cut the grass* for an hour and spent another hour trimming tree limbs. Yes, by 11 a.m. I was done like a turkey on Thanksgiving. But I felt great afterwards. My quads burned Sunday and yesterday; they are almost back to normal today.

Yesterday I took the afternoon off because we went out to dinner to celebrate Mark's CFP success (that's the reason for no weight...I know am carrying water retention from eating out, and I'm not going to weigh for a few days).

This morning after the kids left for school, I put on my running duds and hit the pavement. I had some trouble breathing, even though I used my inhaler. I think it may be the muggier air today (hotter temps today). I didn't have any breathing problems Saturday, and my pace Saturday was 12:50 min/mile and today it was 13:30 min/mile, so it wasn't my speed or exertion.

Other than the breathing, though, I felt great. I love running. Love how I feel afterwards. Love that it is ME time. Love that I can feel myself getting stronger with every run.

That leads me to the "my back" part of this post. In Sept of 2007 I went to visit my BFF in Arkansas. We went to a spa for a massage, and the massage therapist said I had the loosest upper back she'd worked on in a very long time. Very few knots. I was shocked. I carry all my stress in my upper back/between my shoulders. I joked with her that we need to make sure that didn't get back to my husband/boss, because he'll think I'm not working hard enough.

Now that I've had the recent upper back issues again--which are 100% better since I installed a keyboard tray and got a new office chair--I realize that my loose upper back had little to do with stress. It had everything to do with running.

When I run, my upper back muscles get a lot of work. So do my shoulders and biceps. My upper back muscles show up quickly because I lose weight first in my upper body. I am starting to see them already as the fat is making way for visible muscle underneath my skin.

When I stretch my chest muscles regularly (which I've been laxed on the past week, and I can tell a difference is how much poorer my posture is when I don't stretch) by lying on a rolled towel down the length of my upper spine, my back and my posture are even better.

Running rewards me in so many ways. I just needed to get this body in motion and keep it in motion, and now the running bug can stick around for good.

*We have had our lawn mowed by someone else for years and years. Mark can't cut it because of his serious allergic reactions to getting overheated (and to the grass). I refused to cut it for years because I have so many other responsibilites, I didn't feel like I should have to take that one on, too. It's a man's job, afterall, right? :)

Anyway, our lawn guy that we've had forever broke his leg in the spring and had to quit his business. I hired the young man who sold us the Scott's lawn treatments this year, since he'd mentioned he cut grass on the side. I paid him the same amount we paid our lawn guy, and the kid does half the work. He was doing a really poor job of it, and I finally just got tired of spending the money on half assed work. I figured I could do half assed work for free. So I bought a push mower for $125 at Walmart. My mom set it up for me (she is invaluable to me, truly). And I cut the grass for the first time in probably 10 years on Saturday.

This may sound silly, but I loved the sense of accomplishment afterwards. Now, granted, it was only in the upper 60s and overcast, so I wasn't dealing with the heat. I'm sure next summer I'll be bitchin' a plenty when I'm out there.

The bonus here is also that I don't want our kids getting a sense of entitlement. They already have that in so many ways. We are a convenience family. My husband doesn't know how to do anything handy man wise; his dad died when Mark was 8, and his step dad was a verbally abusive alcoholic who never spent any time with Mark. So I don't blame him; it is just a fact. So we have to pay people to do everything for us.

I started having a girl clean the house this summer once every 3 or 4 weeks (yes, it's glorious; yes, it's a total splurge; yes, it's worth every penny). When Sophie told me "I don't need to clean my room, mom. Courtney will do it the next time she comes," I knew I was in trouble. I put a stop to that attitude right away; Courtney no longer picks up their rooms, the kids do before she comes to clean (with no picking up--just deep cleaning).

I figured the lawn was of the same caliber. Our kids need to see someone in the family cutting the grass, or they'll never know that's something you DO and not pay someone else to do. When they are old enough, they will do it (allergies permitting).

I don't want them coming to a rude awakening someday, that life requires a lot of work. They are going to learn that as young people. It's my job (and my husband's) to teach them.

PASS! (170.8)

2011-09-12T15:44:00.000-05:00

Mark passed his CFP exam!!!!

We got the news in the mail today. Such a huge relief.

3 1/2 years of hard work and sacrifice--on both our parts--and it ends in success.

****
I ran the 10k Saturday morning. 6.2 miles in 1 hour & 20 minutes. It felt glorious. Never once did I feel like I couldn't do it. Yes, I got tired. Yes, I ran more the first half than the second. The last 2 miles I ran .1, then I'd walk .1, over & over until the finish line. Didn't matter. It felt amazing to be in a race again.

Last week I ran/walked 4 days for a total of 14 miles.

My food has not been great. I've been eating decent meals, although not balanced at every single meal (so a macro nutrient or two has been missing). It is throwing me off & making me crave cookies.

Food wasn't in the toilet, either, so I at least am maintaining in the 170 area. Now, I just need to coordinate exercise with getting all my meals back to healthy combinations. And cutting out the nightly cookies.

Low pressure system implosion (172.6)

2011-09-09T13:59:00.001-05:00

It is scary how closely tied I am to the weather.

Yesterday a low pressure system came through in the afternoon. Cloudy, on the verge of rain, barometer dropping quickly. As it dropped, so did my energy level.

I also have another sore throat, probably from allergies. I have had the windows open in the house for the past four days, but on Thursday morning I closed up the house and turned on all 4 of our air cleaners (in each bedroom and in family room) to suck out the ragweed because my eyes and throat were burning and scratchy. Last night my throat started hurting like mad, and it still does today. It's not strep, I don't think--at least it doesn't look or smell like it yet. I'm not sick, really, my throat just hurts.

Anyway, last night was a total bust. I skipped Sophie's Girl Scout meeting (just parents, Sophie didn't miss anything), I skipped church choir. I dove head first into food. I was tired at 5 pm, but instead of sleeping I ate. Actually, I did pass out for about 45 minutes in the recliner after a carb binge. I kept eating most of the night. I felt worse--very, very moody--but I couldn't stop.

So... obviously I have discovered another trigger and need to watch myself during these dark and stormy seasonal transition months, and get a plan in place to deal with them. This won't be the last time I am hit by a weather change.

I have my old SAD light on at work, for several hours yesterday, and several hours today (it is lower lumens, so I am using it for longer time periods and hoping it starts to help). My new SAD light should be delivered today or tomorrow. I plan to use it at home when I first wake up.

I am eating well today. I am going to run this afternoon, 3 miles. I am signing up for a 10k that is tomorrow morning. A couple of my girlfriends are running it, and it is a JUST DO IT thing for me. I need the accountability and motivation--they are there for the taking, so I am taking them and going to run with it.

Taxes (171.4)

2011-09-07T11:18:00.000-05:00

I won't be around much the next few days. I am compiling our 2010 tax information (because we are self employed, we file an extension every year) and it is due to the accountants on Friday. I'll be eye ball deep in numbers the next 3 days.

A couple of notes:
I ran/walked yesterday, 3 miles in 40 minutes. The sun was shining. I felt much better afterwards.

I am not planning to do the half marathon in October. I can't hang out in limbo land any longer, wondering if I can get it together enough to do the race. It feels right to make the decision against doing the race. I am not in my 30s any longer--I cannot risk injuring myself by pushing my body to get ready for 13.1 miles a little over 4 weeks. It's not worth it. I have the Princess Half Marathon in Disney World at the end of February to train for. That is enough for me right now.

Mark has finally decided to eat healthier. His brother had a "come to Jesus" talk with him when he was visiting from Colorado. Both of Mark's brother's had heart attacks at age 52. They were both lucky, because they survived their first (Keith had 3, the third of which was massive and killed him; Jeff has had 2 and had bypass surgery a couple of years ago). Mark's dad died of a heart attack at age 50 when Mark was 8 years old. Mark will be 50 next July.

Now that his degree is finished & he's taken the CFP test and has some time to deal with his "afters," he's ready to eat right. He is responsible for what he puts in his mouth, but I told him that I would feed him whatever I eat each day. He puts his own breakfast together (I'm keeping cooked steel cut oats in the fridge); I bring lunch and snacks to the office, and then make dinner or have the fixings for dinner ready at home. We have a gym membership, he just needs to start going.

SAD already? (172.0)

2011-09-06T14:50:00.000-05:00

I had a weird weekend. For the most part it was good--we spent time together as a family, everyone is healthy. I even spent a couple of hours with my mom that were some of the best I've had with her in a long time. But for a good portion of it, I felt out of sync and like I was moving through mud.

I couldn't make myself do more than the bare essentials of cleaning and laundry and taking care of the kids and the dog and grocery shopping and going to church and taking the kids to the pool Saturday....well, I guess the bare essentials are a lot more than I give myself credit for.

But when I wasn't doing those things that I had to do, I did nothing but sit and read or watch TV. I even hit the carbs on Sunday and a little on Monday like I haven't in a long time. I wanted to workout yesterday when the weather had cooled off, but the idea of making myself move my body seemed monumental.

Same with this morning. I had planned on going for a walk/jog after the kids left for school. It was in the upper 50s, partly cloudy and breezy. The perfect antidote to the 100 degrees we had on Saturday. But I could not make myself move. I had my coffee and a piece of toast with peanut butter (not my usual, but I was planning to workout so I didn't eat a big breakfast). I couldn't make myself change my clothes. I gave up and lay down on the bed. I read for an hour before I finally got up to get ready for work.

I once had a therapist who told me she had clients who described depression as moving through mud. Like your limbs and mind meet resistance no matter where you turn. It's easier to lie down than it is to move.

That's how it felt and how it still feels. I've been here many times. But I have been doing so much better, that it has taken me by surprise.

I've had seasonal affective disorder for years. I am taking 1200 calcium and 6 fish oil capsules a day--and have been for a long time, although I only recently increased the fish oil from 2 to 6--to help combat depression and SAD. I don't usually experience symptoms until October. I suppose this year it is starting early.

My acupuncture doctor, who is also a psychiatrist, told me I should use a 10,000 lux light box to treat SAD. I have a 2,500 lux light which is over 10 years old. I just bought a new light box this morning (which killed me on the cost, but it will be worth it if it works) from alaskanorthernlights.com. I will start using it the morning after it arrives. I hope it helps.

There could be something else going on, but it feels like SAD. I'm just surprised at the early timing. I did notice the other night that it was 7 pm and almost dark, and I was a little shocked--wasn't it just yesterday that the sun was out until almost 9 pm?

I should live on an island near the equator. I'd have to deal with hurricanes, but at least I'd get an even dose of sunshine year round.

Doing well but no exercise yet (170.0)

2011-09-02T12:12:00.000-05:00

I'm continuing to do well, esp. with food and mental health, which are huge.

I've been talking to my mom more, just about life in general, and that is going well. I think when I dropped my defenses and opened up, it made a big difference.

My parenting skills seem to be improving, as I use my listening skills more and more, especially with Sophie but also with Luke. Listening more is also is helping my relationship with Mark.

I am a bit behind on laundry, but nothing a busy weekend can't fix. The house is clean and orderly, even the kids' rooms.

The biggest hole in the process is that I'm still struggling to fit exercise into my routine. I'm going to take a serious look at my daily schedule and make myself find the time to workout. It's not just the workout time that's an issue. It's the time it takes to prep for it.

There are basically 3 different times of day I could feasibly fit exercise into my life.

1) At 5:30 or 6 am. This would require "prep" time of going to bed at 9:30 or 10 pm. Most nights I am still doing laundry or dishes or reading or watching one of the few TV shows I DVR until 10 or 10:30, and I don't fall asleep until 10:30 or 11. An earlier bedtime is possible (esp. if I'd do a better job of getting kids to bed before 8:30), but there is a time cost there. Plus, I am soooo not a morning person. It would be a sacrifice on that front, too.

2) Right after the kids leave for school, which is 7:30. This makes the most sense. There are classes every day at the gym at 8 am, and I can get ready for work there and be in the office by or before 10 am. Or I could go running when the weather gets nice and be at work by 9:30 am. The "prep" time here is getting up early to eat breakfast and getting my gear packed for the gym (when I get ready there anyway). I would also have to have an earlier bedtime of 10 pm so I could get up at 6 am to eat. Also, I often clean the kitchen or do a load of laundry before I go to work, so I would be giving up that cleaning time and would have to do those things after work (which would be a very worthwhile tradeoff, but it is a factor).

3) At home, after work/school. This is what I've been shooting for, and it's just not happening. Twice a week we have after school activities and I don't have any time to workout. So that leaves twice a week (not counting Fridays) where I could workout at home after work/school, which would be around 4:30 or 5. This has worked a couple of times, when I've done yoga at home. The kids can unwind after school and for the most part keep themselves busy for an hour (Luke did the yoga DVD with me the last time, which was a hoot) while I either do a DVD or hit the treadmill. There's not much "prep" time with this, and theoretically makes the most sense, but I'm also often wiped out by the time I get home and I just don't wanna.

I'd like to think a combination of these things might work, depending on what each day holds. I can plan ahead and put WORKOUT on my calendar, and then stick to it. I just need to make up my mind to Just Do It.

I can also workout on Saturdays. The draw back there is that I like to sleep in on Saturdays, since it's my only real day off. I just need to make myself realize the pay off for working out is much bigger than getting an extra hour or two of sleep. When the weather cools down, Saturday afternoon runs are a definite possibility.

I wanted to run the half marathon on October 9th this year. I'm 50% sure that isn't going to happen. I could still train for it. I've got 5 weeks, and I did it last year with only about that much training time. I just have to get moving NOW, or my training window will close in about a week's time.

The biggest motivator to do the race is that I've run it the past three years in a row. It's a great course, it's in town, and logistically it's an easy race to get to and away from (small field, about 2,500, and it's very walker/slow jogger friendly). It's also the one year anniversary of my Dad's funeral--last year I ran the race the day of his visitation--so there is that to consider.

The obvious drawback is, of course, I've not been running much at all this year. So I don't know if it's even possible for my body to get up to speed that quickly. I guess I would find out if I'd just start running.

Jewelry, hair, nails, and makeup, and what they covered up when I was obese (171.0)

2011-08-31T12:58:00.002-05:00

Since high school, I have been a hair, nails, and makeup person. I take care to style my hair, have nice nails (and sometimes have acrylics put on), and "do" my face when I leave the house.

When I was obese, I was especially careful with all of this, and I also accessorized with jewelry and scarves and handbags. I would never, ever leave the house without makeup or hair done. I would get my nails done every two weeks. My clothes were always nice and fashionable, even if they were size 16s or 18s or 20s.

When I lost weight in 2007, I started relaxing the high standard of beauty I put upon myself. I'd put my hair in a pony tail and run to the store, without makeup. I didn't need acrylic nails anymore either. I gave away a ton of handbags that clogged my closet.

When the fat melted away, I felt like I didn't have to hide behind the glitter anymore.

There's nothing wrong at all with looking good and taking care with your appearance. I still do. I have always worked outside the home, and that is the biggest reason why I had to look the way I did, no matter my size.

But it was different when I was obese. I felt like the only thing I could make look good were the decorations.

I guess I tried to tell the world "I really do care about what I look like... I just have this small obesity problem, but please overlook my body and only pay attention to my great hair and makeup and nails and sparkly jewelry."

Because my body looked so horribly disgusting.

Yes, that's how I felt about my body. Disgusting. I cried and cried when I was in size 20s after Luke's birth. In the fall of 2005, I weighed what NFL linebacker's weigh.

When I was cleaning out a bathroom drawer a few weeks ago (part of my ongoing declutter movement) I found an old notebook that had my weight recorded from 11/13/2005 - 10/12/2006.

I weighed 224 pounds on 11/13 (a week after Luke's birth). I still weighed 200 pounds 7 months later on 6/22/06. I weighed 190.5 on 11/12/2006.

I even have measurements, I think from a WW book. I measured the body parts they listed (no chest, don't know why) . In May 2006 when I weighed 205 pounds they were:
Upper arm: 15"
Waist (1" above belly button): 42"
Hips: 49" (this is not my saddle bag area...this is hip area, about a hand length below waist)
Right thigh: 27.5"

I also recorded my measurements in February 2008, when I weighed 153 pounds:
Upper arm: 11.5"
Waist: 31.5"
Hips: 37.5"
Right thigh: 21.5"

History, that most of you know already--

I started blogging in April 2006.

I started LA Weight Loss in February 2007 at 207 pounds.

I weighed 155 pounds by September 2007.

I hit my lowest weight of 146 in October 2008, but settled back up to 150-155 in early 2009.

I gained back 30 pounds over two years.

I've lost 15 pounds in 2011, and have another 20+ to go.

As my body got/gets smaller, I fell like I have less to compensate for.

When I got to 186 this year, I didn't run out and buy sparkly jewelry (although I did have acrylic nails put on once last year and again this year.... I haven't had them for a couple months now. They are just too much time to keep them up). I'll leave the house without makeup to run errands and not care.

This time, with the weight gain, I didn't feel the need to hide behind glitter, because even though I was technically back in the obese category, I didn't FEEL obese again. I felt like it was temporary, and I would be fixing it and not living it much longer.

I love simple clothes and simple makeup and simple jewelry. When I got thin, I simplified all those things. I only wear my wedding rings and a right-hand sapphire ring Mark & the kids bought for me for my 40th birthday. I wear the same faux-diamond studs everyday; they were a Mother's Day gift in 2009. Sometimes I wear the necklace my mom and dad got me for my 40th--a silver flower with diamonds on a delicate sliver chain.

Not all my clothes are simple, but my favorite ones are. I once read that you shouldn't wear what clothing designers create; you should wear what clothing designers wear. Simple, classic, flattering (and usually black, haha).

When I got thin, I didn't have to adorn myself to compensate, because the body I presented to the world didn't need it.

I am not thin yet; I am still overweight. But I look much better and feel much better at this weight. My XL t-shirts are too big now, and my jeans are falling off of me (a lot of spandex in these babies). My size 14 clothes are comfortably loose. I expect to be back in 12s when I reach 165 pounds, which is what I weighed last year in October (I had to buy size 12s to wear to my dad's funeral).

My weight loss this time has been slow and steady. I'm averaging 3-4 pounds a month, and that's mostly on diet changes alone since my exercise has been sporadic to nonexistant this summer (which is not OK and I am going to change).

I am looking forward to shopping in my storage bins and son's closet (where my smaller clothes are) as I continue to lose weight.

I still love great shoes and handbags, and I am still particular about my hair and makeup, but I don't feel the need to overcompensate or hide behind them any more.

What's it take to stop pushing a boulder up a hill? (170.0)

2011-08-30T11:15:00.000-05:00

Vickie wrote a powerful post which contains some links to other great posts. Please read if you haven't yet. Below is my comment to her, which is my post for today.

Vickie wrote: "At what point does barely treading water or barely keeping out of the sucking vortex become never ending struggle with no results/steps forward and one calls in reinforcements?"

I guess that point is different for everybody. Most of Us probably don't get there until we hit rock bottom--and "rock bottom" means something different for everyone. We ruminate, we try, we fall and pick ourselves up again and again, and we stay stuck in the same patterns, like Sisyphus pushing the boulder up the mountain.

And when the boulder finally crushes us and we can't get back up, we admit to ourselves that we can't keep doing what we are doing, and then, hopefully, we get it, and can allow ourselves to ask for help.

I am a perfectionist. I have always "done" for myself. I have been my primary caregiver for (what feels like) my whole life. I have a hard time asking for help, with anything. I think I have all the answers. I am hard headed. **Even when what I'm doing is clearly not working, I tell myself, if I just try harder I can figure this out for myself.**

That, in my opinion, is a big reason I spent so many years being overweight. And now, after going through therapy myself, I believe that being overweight was a symptom, not the problem. The problems that therapy has uncovered are many, and they are very deep.

They don't go away just because I lose 50 pounds, and they don't go away because I push the boulder up the hill faster or harder. They really don't ever "go away." I guess that's the wrong word. They come to light, they heal--piece by piece, over time, with a lot of work and pain.

It's a long process, and it is not smooth, and it is different for everyone. But it is, in my opinion, the only thing that ends the cycle of pushing the boulder up a hill.

I agree, 100%, that it is not a process that can be done by oneself.

It was not easy to come to the realization that it was OK to get help, and that I HAD TO get help if I ever wanted to get healthy (physically and mentally).

I think for years it was a mixture of pride and fear that kept me from therapy. It took some pretty earthshaking stuff to get me past pride and fear. I hit rock bottom more than once. I was torn down to raw flesh by the time I walked through my therapist's door.

I feel like getting off the mountain and away from pushing the damn boulder up the hill is the first step. I have such a long way to go....and there is no end to the journey, like we've talked about many times. As long as we move over or around or through the boulders and aren't pushing them up the hill in futility, then we are moving in the right direction.

A new person (171.0)

2011-08-29T12:19:00.000-05:00

The weekend went well, considering how crazy it was. The way I handled everything was nothing short of a miracle.

We had a house guest (Mark's brother from Colorado) all weekend. He got in Friday night and is leaving this afternoon. We don't have a guest room; Mark set up the air mattress in the family room (I put the bedding on), which stayed there all weekend. I like having my house in order and cleaned up. The disorder of the family room bothered me a bit, but I decided I could live with it and just let it go, and I did.

I grocery shopped Friday after work, and made a big fruit salad (Jeff helped with that) and dinner that night. The guys went out and smoked cigars and then came home and talked until 3 am. I slept through Mark getting into bed.

My espresso maker died Saturday morning, which was total bummer but I didn't kill anyone over it, haha.  I gathered our swim stuff for pool party #1 (I keep everything in a bag in the front hallway, so I only had to get suits and towels together), and the kids and I left the house at 11: 45 am, picking up Luke's friend on the way. He came over to spend the night Friday, but didn't make it--poor kid missed his mom so she came and picked him up at 7:30 pm.  Luke handled the disappointment well, mostly because we still included his friend in our Saturday plans.

I was with my mom and sister for 4 hours on Saturday, and not once did I get angry or upset or irritated. I didn't let my sister & her husband's arguments get to me. I didn't let mom get to me. I didn't let the noise and needs of 10 kids (3 of which I was responsible for) in the pool get to me.

I felt relaxed, unattached but very present, and like a new person.

I showered & cleaned up at my sister's, getting ready for party #2. We left my sister's house at 4 pm, dropped off Luke's friend at his house, then went straight to Mark's cousin's house. The kids both got back into their wet bathing suits and swam again at our 2nd pool party of the day. We stayed until 7:30 pm. I helped both kids get back into dry clothes for the 2nd time that day.  When we got home, they got into PJ's and relaxed for about an hour then went to bed.

Saturday night when we got home, I was worn out. I was also upset when I saw that the steel cut oats I had made that morning for Jeff that were left on the stove all day, because neither of the guys thought to put it away after they were done. Plus the kitchen wasn't cleaned because I hadn't had time that morning, and by then it was all a bit much for me.

Mark had done nothing at that point to help me, not with the kids or with the hospitality of his brother. I lost it a bit, especially after he went straight to the bedroom and laid out on the bed to watch TV while I was getting the kids ready for bed after my marathon Saturday.

We had a tiff, I finished getting the kids ready for bed, then he came and checked on me in the family room where I'd just collapsed on the couch (Jeff wasn't home, he was out at a friend's reception). I told him I was upset & why. I said that I needed him to clean the kitchen at the very minimum, because I was done. He did, it helped a little bit. I didn't stay mad. I moved on. I didn't binge or even feel like binging.

Yesterday sucked. Sophie woke up with a sore throat. I was very tired, mentally and physically. Mark, Jeff, & Luke went to church, then out to lunch. When they got home, Mark had a reaction to some medicine he took by mistake (he chewed a timed-release tablet instead of swallowing it, thinking it was a different med--it was in his pocket, not a bottle--he's a mad man sometimes, I tell you--and it released a ton of niacin into his system...and his body had a horrible reaction to it). So he was out of commission all day and all night.

Jeff went out with sister Nancy, who came in town from Indy to see him, so it was me and the kids. I did a couple loads of laundry and that was about it. It was a stressful, unhappy day. I still didn't eat to cope, which is a small miracle.

Last night after the kids were in bed I watched TV and read and feel asleep around 10:30. I still didn't binge or eat anything to soothe my stress.

I know it's the mood stabilizer doing its job. Yes, not having sugar in my system is also a big contributor to being more stable. Yes, therapy has helped me "see" where I have issues and where I can change my behavior to help myself and others.  Even my hormones have not been affecting me like they used to. I can feel my brain and emotions reacting like a stable, even person.

It truly is nothing short of a miracle. I hope it continues. I am not jumping up and down with tons of energy, but I am not in the dumps of depression or the pit of sugar despair either. I am stable and on an even keel.  I really do feel like a new person.

I am among the living (170.8)

2011-08-26T13:24:00.000-05:00

I got cleaned up and made it to work today around noon, and it took just about everything I had to get here. At least I'm vertical, though. I feel better, just still very weak.

And I have had zero appetite, which explains the weight loss (and I know a lot of it is fluid loss). I will be fine with the scale going back up a little when I start eating normally again. I am happy I haven't thrown myself into Carbs as a means of "feeling better."

I admit, when I was picking up my Rx at Walgreens on Wednesday night I thought, "heck, I feel so bad I might as well get some Ben & Jerry's." But I didn't. I knew it would be a slippery slope. I did have a couple of popsicles yesterday because it was about the only thing I could eat. Mostly I've been eating yogurt and fruit and nuts; one night I had eggs with Ezekial toast. I've had soy lattes in the morning, and soy milk with a T. of chocolate syrup last night for dinner. Yes, that was dinner. My throat hurt too bad to swallow much food, and nothing tastes good or sounds good.

We have a busy weekend. Mark's brother and niece are both (unexpectedly) in town this weekend. We learned of his brother's trip yesterday, and his niece Kate's today. Jeff is staying with us, but will be gone all day Saturday at his best friend's son's wedding reception. Kate we will see either tonight or Sunday morning. Neither is a big "to do" for us. Both of them are health nuts (Jeff is vegan) so I won't have any food issues around them. I will have to grocery shop today for Jeff, but lucky for him I eat lots of fruits and veggies now, so he should be in good shape.

Luke is having his first sleepover friend come over tonight. Max has been in Luke's preschool since they were two years old. They are now both at the same elementary school. Max is a triplet (he has two sisters). Luke is over the moon excited. I can't wait to see the joy on their little faces. I hope it's infectious.

Saturday we have two, yes two, pool parties to go to. One at my sister's house; we are taking Max along with us. And then one at Mark's cousin's house. It will be a very full day. I hope I am up for it.

I hope any East coast readers are safe & sound. That hurricane sounds like a nasty biotch. (and doesn't it feel end of the world-ish? First an earthquake, then a hurricane--in the same week. Crazy. And there was an earthquake in Colorado this week, too. Oy.)

At least the weather is nice here. I do love some breezy sunshine. Too bad I'm not up to running in it yet.

Sick (172.2)

2011-08-25T12:39:00.001-05:00

I have strep throat. I started feeling bad Tuesday at work, then Tuesday night my throat started hurting. Yesterday I woke up with a horrible sore throat with white spots blooming on my tonsils. I knew it was strep.

It's not the worst case I've had, but I slept all day yesterday, went to the urgent care last night (they did a strep test--positive), and got amoxicilin. The doctor told me to take two doses last night, which I took about 4 hours apart.

Today I'm home again, have slept all morning and still feel pretty rotten. It takes a good 3-4 days before I get over strep.

Earlier this year I talked to an ENT office about getting my tonsils out. They don't take them out of adults unless you have 6 cases of strep in 12 months. At the time I'd only had 3, and two of those had been diagnosed as pharyngitis because the doc didn't do a strep test, but I was put on antibiotics and I know it was strep because my symptoms are always the same.

I'm not getting strep every two months. But I get it enough that it's disruptive and a pain. If I get it again this year, I may revisit the ENT.

I hate being sick. I was on a (healthy) roll. This really sucks.

And Sophie has missed school the past two days, too, because she has a headache. Not a migraine, not dizzy, but a bad headache that keeps her from concentrating. It was present all day and all night, and it's still here today. That has me slightly worried. I hope she's better by tomorrow, or I'm taking her to the doctor.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Mom (172.0)

2011-08-23T15:21:00.001-05:00

Yesterday's therapy appointment was all about Mom. About me being a Mom to Sophie, and about my relationship with my mom.

Sophie has asked that I not share personal information about her with anyone--not even on my blog. She is a very private girl, and I respect that. So I won't write about specifics, but let me say that parenting my 10 1/2 year old daughter is much harder than it used to be.

So onto my mom. We have almost all talked on our blogs in one form or another about our mothers. Mostly about how their parenting (or lack thereof) caused such an impact on our lives in the present tense. Some of Us have worked through our issues; some of Us are in the middle of working through them; some of Us are no doubt terrified of even going near them.

Julie & I talked yesterday about a recent experience with my mom. To make a long story short, I needed to pick up the kids earlier on Saturday morning (they spent the night Friday) than she wanted me to, and even though she had known since Thursday of the earlier pick up time (10:30 am), she still sighed and sighed and wore her disappointment like a cloak when I came to get them.

Julie asked me to describe Mom as if I were an outsider and had no knowledge of her other than what I observed. What would that look like? I finally described what she looked like Satuday morning--like a very giving grandmother, who has 8 grandkids to take care of at one time, who is selfless and frazzled.

"Selfless" was a big warning word for Julie. Selfless does not mean someone who gives generously out of abundance. Selfless implies no sense of self.

My mom loves having my kids and my niece to visit. She also loves her husband's grand kids (set of twins, boy & girl, almost 4; and three kids, boy-7, girl-4, girl-2) and for the most part they are very good kids. But no matter how good kids that age are, 8 kids at one time is a lot of work.

Mom's husband is a super granddad. But he's a lousy communicator, and he doesn't let Mom have a choice as to when his grandkids are there. He will even ask to have them come over and then leave the house to go work in his building for hours, leaving mom with all the kids. She has either tried to talk to him about this and he won't listen, or she knows it's a moot point because he does what he wants, regardless, and she doesn't bother to bring it up anymore.

I talked about this with her at the first of the year. I gave her marriage advice. It was weird. It was one of those things I was "attached" to that I have let go. She's a grown up, it's her marriage, I am staying out of it.

So my mom's sense of self comes from taking care of kids/other people and she also feels like she often has no choice in the matter. A perfect storm to create a martyr.

I told Julie that when I was up against Mom's sighs and frustrated "you're here already? you have to go already?" that I didn't get angry. I was very calm, said we'd talked about it already, and I had 20 minutes before we had to leave. She was huffy almost the entire time I was there. I didn't get mad; I actually saw her with different eyes. I didn't like what I saw, but I wasn't angry as hell over it.

She looks and acts unhappy most of the time I am around her. Most of the time I am around her, she is caring for a posse of children.

Julie said this is where there's a problem in our relationship. If I want to heal this rift between me and my mom, I have to spend time with her outside of these situations. I need to have one on one adult time with her. I need to build a relationship with her separate from my kids.

I also asked Julie how to handle these types of situations, when Mom throws out the martyr attitude. She said just how I handled it. I can model setting boundaries and not letting her negativity control my actions. I can set my own schedule with my kids and not let her selflessness cause problems for me.

The idea of spending time with my mom is not a comfortable one. I still have this wall clearly set up between us. Yes, I feel like the anger is (mostly) gone, but I haven't moved any further than that.

Part of the issue is that my mom's quirks get under my skin. I was an English/Lit major in college; grammar errors in speech and writing drive me positively insane. My mom's grammar is horrible. There is no reason to correct her; she has and will always speak like this. My mom also is usually indecisive. She is passive aggressive. She is controlling. She is emotionally immature and unaware.

Yes, I see a lot of myself in my mom (other than the grammar thing). It's tempered somewhat because I am NOT my mom. But don't we dislike in others what we most dislike about ourselves?

I'm faced with the next step of asking my mom on a date, either to lunch or to get a pedicure together. I know I need to, but I don't wanna. We have nothing in common. It's not like she can be my "girlfriend."

Understand, also, that no one else but my sister and me would describe Mom like this. She's very pretty, she's generous, she's nice, she's kind, she's thoughtful, she'd do anything for her family and friends, she's reliable, she's a person of faith (which only happened after she divorced my dad; she did not go to church when I was growing up).

I write about all this because I need to process it. I am going to take the next step, and I'm sure it won't be as bad as all the scenarios I play out in my head (like me breaking into tears and spilling my "black box" issues, or me getting angry at her for something so small she'll think I'm a total bitch--which I often have been around her). It could simply be a gesture to Honor My Mother, which is a commandment that I'm currently breaking.

Saturday we have two pool parties--one at my sister's and one at Mark's cousin's house. My sister has a new pool, and this is her first pool party. Mark's cousin has an annual gathering that we always go to. We have to do both. Mom will be ticked off that we will only be at my sister's for a few hours and not all day. I'll listen to her sighs, I'll not get mad, and I'll try not to let it bother me.

I'll be talking to her soon, just the two of us. I hope it's okay.

Monday (172.8)

2011-08-22T10:44:00.000-05:00

Busy day. I will update more tomorrow.

Therapy appointment this afternoon at 3 pm.

New chair (173.6)

2011-08-19T11:42:00.001-05:00

I got my new office chair today. I bought it online from Office Depot yesterday; they delivered it this morning. I put it together myself (I also installed my keyboard tray yesterday myself). My dad taught us how to follow directions and I watched him put together all kinds of things when I was a kid. Following directions and doing technical stuff (I have done all the TV/DVD/Cable/Stereo set ups at our house since Mark & I have been married; he is not a "follow the directions" kind of guy) comes fairly naturally to me.

This isn't just a new chair. I hope that, along with my new keyboard tray, it is a salvation to my aching neck and shoulders.

It has mesh seat and back (it is not a Herman Miller Aeron chair, but it's as close as you can get without spending a fortune). The chair is adjustable in just about every way it could be. Height goes up/down, the seat goes up/back, the chair back goes up/down and tilts forward/back. The arm rests are adjustable up/down and also has 3 side to side positions. It's going to be interesting to find the exact perfect position to get my posture just right so I don't have any more aches and pains.

On a food related front, I haven't written down what I've eaten this week. I wanted to see if I could eat "normally" (the same food combinations every day) and not track every calorie, and still lose weight. Writing everything down was starting to feel like a diet. I will try this for a while and if my weight doesn't continue to go down, I will start recording my food again.

We have a fairly relaxed weekend ahead of us. The house is picked up and I will only have about 3 loads of laundry to do. Mom has the kids tonight, so I'm looking forward to some time with Mark and also by myself. I am planning to do several workout activities this weekend since my week has been too light on that front.

Exercise for Mental Health (173.4)

2011-08-18T12:14:00.001-05:00

My neck & upper back have been killing me for a while. It's only when I'm at work, so I know it's a keyboard/chair issue. I have already been to physical therapy once, that included discussions on changing my laptop screen positioning (so I'm not looking down at the screen) & getting an external keyboard. But I haven't had a keyboard tray and my shoulders have been hunched UP for long enough that it is messing with my neck and shoulders.

Today I installed a keyboard try. I am also getting a new office chair. I hope both of these things will help.

I also think that I need to learn to sit and stand better, and strengthen my core for the sake of my posture and back. I have been been doing chest openers the past few nights (rolled up towel on the floor between my shoulder blades). I have been paying attention to when my shoulders slump forward--which is all the time.

All this leads me to my post for today. After work yesterday I had a headache from my neck tension. I had planned to do a weights class, but felt too horrible for it. I went home, did the normal after school routine, and started feeling sorry for myself. Poor me, I want to work out but just can't.

Around 6:30 I decided that if I didn't do something physical that night, I was going to be even more miserable. I wasn't thinking about how I needed to workout so I'd lose weight or build muscle. I chose to move my body so my mind would be healthier and happier.

I did the yoga DVD again. Only 40 minutes of it, because I started it at 7 pm and the kids needed my attention for bedtime routines. But it was enough. I got through all the standing poses, added some down dogs & planks myself, and did about 10 minutes of seated work.

Luke tried to interrupt me about half way through, whining that he wanted to watch TV. I was in the family room using the big TV; we have a TV in our bedroom--the kids do not have TVs in their rooms and, as God is my witness, they never will--so I told him to go in there and have Daddy put on a show for him. But before I could tell him that, Sophie said "Luke, mommy has to do her Yoga!" I smiled at her, said thank you, and agreed that doing yoga makes me a better Mom.

After I was finished I felt like a new person. The standing poses make me sweat. They also work my core. I love feeling strong when I can hold a difficult pose.

The difference for me with working out lately has been a significant shift in thinking. My long-term goals of having less fat and more muscle and a body that looks good naked can get lost in the daily grind. Those goals seem so far away, sometimes unattainable, and they can be fodder for "I'll workout tomorrow" thinking. Because, honestly, the Big Goals have "someday" written all over them. "Someday" is code for "never."

On days like yesterday when I just don't wanna, I can reach for the immediate reward--a healthier mind and more peaceful emotional state. I might not notice the changes going on in my body from day to day, but I certainly notice the changes in my mental state.

And for me, that's as important a reason as any to workout. The physical results are a bonus.

Escape (174.6)

2011-08-17T09:57:00.000-05:00

I think the food cravings are mostly gone now, after a couple of days back on track. Geez, sugar gets in and doesn't let its hooks go easily. I am going to a weight lifting class tonight at 5:30.

I feel pretty good about how things are going on the food front, even though my weight isn't moving down quickly. I know it's not a race to get skinny, so I'm not letting the slowish pace get to me. I'm excited to start taking the classes at the gym, and I love the yoga DVD and can't wait to do it again (it is Yoga Challenge 1, Hatha Yoga with Tony Sanchez. I ordered it from Amazon.com).
***

I have been reading a ton of escape books all summer. I've become addicted, for want of a better word, to the sci-fi/fantasy genre (magic & medieval times, werewolves, shapeshifters, beyond-reality stuff). I never thought I'd like this type of book, but I found a couple of good authors and now I'm hooked.

My kindle makes it way to easy to read one after another. I don't have paperbacks piling up, I don't have embarrassing book covers to hide, I don't have to wait until I get to the bookstore or library for another one.

I know I use the books for escape. I am not reading them to the exclusion of doing my job at work or at home. My house is clean, my bed linens are clean, our hampers are empty, my kitchen is clean. I'm keeping myself and family well fed and cared for. I'm working out. I'm sleeping 7 or 8 hours a night.

So, I guess you could say my 1 to 2 hours of reading a day is no big deal. Except I was thinking on the way into work today--what is it that I'm escaping from?

Part of it is the shear responsibility of being a wife and mother. Some days I just don't want to be either. Part of it is a (small) mid life crisis, I think. Part of it is a dissatisfaction with life in general, which sets me up to feel guilty because I am so extremely lucky and blessed to have the life I have--how dare I complain or want something else?

I don't have any answers. It's fodder for therapy next week.

Sick kids, but didn't derail me

2011-08-16T15:08:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I got a call from school at 9 am that Sophie had a headache and was feeling puny. It wasn't a migraine--no vertigo, but she felt bad enough to go to the nurse and wanted to come home. I picked her up, took her home, and went to work. Mark took the day off yesterday so he was home to stay with her.

Then at 11:30 Mark calls me and says the school called the house & said Luke had a 102 fever and a sore throat. Mark picked him up & brought him home. I left work around 2 pm and Mark went in to the office for a few hours.

Neither of the kids were horribly sick, but it was still a disruption to "normal," which I have been enjoying. I didn't get to run or anything else yesterday afternoon. I didn't feel up to it anyway. The cough is affecting me more than I wish it would.

Today Sophie made it to school. Luke and I stayed home; he feels okay on ibuprofen. I think it's viral and (fingers crossed) not strep. He'll stay home again tomorrow since he still had a fever today at noon, but mom is coming down to stay with him so I can go to work tomorrow.

I could have spent the day eating my way through it. I certainly have been having cravings, thanks to my Sunday excursion into junk food. Instead this afternoon I cracked open my new yoga DVD and did 65 minutes of peaceful sweating. It's a good DVD--not perfect. There are no down dogs or other weight-bearing postures, but there are a lot of standing poses for strong legs and a lot of core work, and lots of breathing and stretching. I could see myself doing it every morning before work and being energized by it.

Sunday - Day Off (176.2)

2011-08-15T10:55:00.000-05:00

So yesterday I took a day off from my whole foods eating plan. I don't know if it was hormones, rebellion, laziness, an experiment, or what, but when we were at lunch after church, I decided I wanted a mojito and fish tacos. Of the three fish tacos, I ate one tortilla and the insides of the other two, and had sweet potato chips on the side. The mojito was wonderful--I haven't had an adult beverage in months.

It set off the rest of the day to be a "fun food" day. I had some cookies after lunch, some homemade caramel popcorn, and later some ice cream with the kids. I napped briefly after reading a book in bed. It was a lazy day for all of us.

But, I felt like crap all day. I could tell my body was processing the sugar and didn't like it. I was a tad grouchy in the late afternoon. I had cravings for more.

It was weird being back "in the food." Last night I realized I do not want to do that again. This morning I had no problem getting back to my usual breakfast. It will be interesting to see if I have any residual cravings today. I expected the weight uptick; my fingers were very swollen this morning and I could barely get my rings off.

I don't see yesterday as some moral failure or anything to get bent out of shape about. Like I said, I don't know exactly what triggered it, but I'm taking a lesson from it that I hope I remember for a long time. A full day of processed food is a bad idea if I want to feel good.

I still have the cough. It is still wearing me out. Several people have had the same thing, and it can go on for a month or more, so I guess I'm half way through it.

I took a free weights class on Saturday morning. It was awesome. I was sore yesterday and pretty sore today, too. I'm planning to run after work today, since the weather is still so nice.

I am feeling more and more like this extra fat on my body is not me. I just want it gone. I know I have to do more exercise to get the body I want, which is the reason for the free weights class. I also am planning to start doing yoga DVD's at home. I got a new one that the yoga instructors at our hot yoga studio said is similar to the classes they teach, with the same poses that move through a 60 minute sequence. I got it Saturday from Amazon and can't wait to try it out.

Random TGIF stuff (175.0)

2011-08-12T10:51:00.001-05:00

I finally got a run in yesterday morning after the kids got on the bus. The weather was lovely. Cooler air and lower humidity makes such a difference in my speed and endurance. I alternated running and walking, and ran a total of 2 miles out of 3.

I still have a cough; it is wearing me out. The people I know who have had this have had a cough sometimes for over a month. Joy.

I'm doing well with food. Only had one evening with a misstep this week (last night, hence the uptick in weight; Thursday I was 173.8), and it was "only" 250 calories of chips ahoy cookies (Luke takes one in his lunch to school). I'm going to have to figure out how to Laura-proof them. Maybe the freezer?

The other night, after I'd received yet another letter from a creditor wanting money from Dad's estate--which doesn't exist since it was insolvent and there is no money to pay anyone--I could feel the stirrings of a binge. I kept busy, as is my usual evening routine now, folding laundry on the bed while Mark & the kids were in the family room. This time, though, I sat and thought about what I was feeling, and I let the tears come. It was a short cry, but it was a cry nonetheless. The binge feelings went away.

We are going to our Friday night friends' group from church tonight. We haven't been in months and months. It's the first real social event I've been to in a long time. We are taking our own meat to grill, and the host family is providing everything else. I am planning to take a salad and a piece of fruit with me, too, and stay away from everything else. I'm sure it will all be processed stuff I won't eat.

The kids had a great week at school. Luke loves Kindergarten. He has surprised me by how grown up he has become in the past 3 days. Treat kids like they can do more, and they do.

I have been practicing listening and not trying to solve everyone's problems when they talk. I did that with Sophie last night--listened, gave some feedback when it seemed appropriate, and didn't try to solve every question or problem she had. She talked a lot. I talked very little. She went to sleep smiling.

It's actually been a big weight off my shoulders to not feel responsible for solving everyone's issues. You know? I can listen, and that is enough.

First day of school & Dairy (175.0)

2011-08-10T10:17:00.001-05:00

Luke is starting Kindergarten. Sophie is in 4th grade (we just got 3 inches cut off her hair, & it is still really long. It was below her waist, grazing her hips). They were both excited and ready this morning. They rode the bus together, and we met them at school. Parents have to be there on the first day with Kindergartners. Luke didn't cry when we left him in his class (Mark went, too).

Everything went really well--I had prepped lunches the night before, which helped me not be so crazy and stressed. I didn't get to eat my regular breakfast because I slept until 6 am (ugh, 5:30 is going to have to be my wake up time on mornings I leave for work after the kids get on the bus at 7:30). I had a latte and a handful of cashews, so my mid morning snack is bigger than usual, and it's all good.

Random note: after my talk about dairy with California Girl at Saturday's class reunion, I am trying soy milk in my coffee. I am using unsweetened original, and I like it a lot. I know too much soy is a bad thing, too, but this is the only soy I am getting in my diet. I am striving for one serving of yogurt (Greek, 3/4 cup) a day, usually before bed with fruit and 1/8 c walnuts. So we will see if less dairy makes a difference at all.

She isn't the only person I've heard talk about the evils of dairy. Mark's vegan family in Colorado (brother and nephew) are big opponents. I researched online and there are arguments on both sides that sound valid. I'm not eliminating it; I'm not taking milk away from my kids. I have been buying organic milk for a while, so I figure I'm doing the best we can with dairy. But I had been eating probably too much since I switched to whole foods--sometimes three servings a day. This feels more balanced.

Tuesday - 173.4

2011-08-09T07:29:00.001-05:00

Woot! Another drop in poundage. Happy dance on the scale this morning.

Still not running yet--stupid cough--but I'm feeling a bit better this morning and the weather is finally cooling off over the next week. I can't wait to be able to run and breathe (air, instead of pea-soup humidity) outside at the same time.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Class Reunion (175.2)

2011-08-08T10:52:00.002-05:00

Weight this morning was after breakfast. I was pretty happy with that.

Saturday night we went to Mark's 30th class reunion. Below are a couple of pictures. The other couple is Mark's best friend from HS, Karen & her husband Joe. Karen found us our first house. Her daughters have both babysat our kids. She knows everyone and is one of the nicest people I know. It's amazing how close Mark's classmates still are after 30 years.

I had a really good time. This is the 4th reunion I've been to with him. I know a lot of the local people, and talked with a couple of women I hadn't met before who live out of state.

One was a very thin & fit woman from California. She's lived in L.A. since she was 18. Her family is still here; this is the first reunion she's been too. She said her mom & family said she was anorexic; she replied to them that she's normal weight & fat content (she is "celebrity thin" & muscled, like Carla @ MizFit) and basically that they are all fat. She said even the thin people here are fat. I guess she's right.

We had a long talk (she did most of the talking--definitely a monologue kind of person) about her life and yoga and food. She lives a very privileged life; I have no idea what her husband does, but they have 3 kids all in private school and live on the west side of L.A. Her son plays soccer with David Beckham's kids (David Beckham is, of course, on the sidelines, talking with the other parents...can you imagine?). She takes yoga every day from a famous yoga instructor, who celebrities also take yoga from. She's a vegetarian, almost a vegan, and she told me all about how we aren't meant to be meat eaters and how dairy is the devil, and said I should read "Skinny Bitch."

She told me she was eating junk food and smoking and drinking 10 years ago. She changed her lifestyle a little at a time. Other than that, I don't know her history. Mark said in high school she was chubby and had blonde hair (she has long wavy brunette hair and is not only thin but very pretty). He said he would never have recognized her without her name tag.

Of course, I felt the need to give a resume of my body history. In the 30 minutes or so we "talked," I managed to squeeze in that I stopped eating processed foods 6 weeks ago, that I've gained 30 pounds in the last year since my Dad got sick and died and am working to get them back off, that I'm a runner and have completed 5 half marathons, and that I, too, eat avocados at breakfast.

It was very weird, frankly, to listen to her talk about her lifestyle (I swear she said "L.A." at least 50 times). On some levels I enjoyed talking to her--she was a nice person, even though she did monopolize every conversation she was in--but on other levels it made me feel inferior. Like my little mid-west life and mid-west body weren't bright and shiny like her L.A. existence.

She also did talk about how awful things are there with immigration, taxes, medical costs, housing costs, public schools, politicians. It's not perfect, by any means. I'd rather live where I do now than in L.A., because it's what I'm used to. But it sure sounds pretty on the outside.

I have a cough that won't go away. I have been taking mucinex DM, which thins the junk in my throat but makes me tired and grouchy. My abs are sore, I've been coughing so much.

Busy day today. I am taking Sophie to get her hair trimmed this afternoon (It is below her waist now, and hasn't been cut since last Thanksgiving. She needs a good trim but wants to keep it long.), then the kids and I are going to their school to drop off supplies and visit classrooms. School starts Wednesday. My mom is keeping them at my house today and tomorrow.

Treading water (175.8)

2011-08-05T12:10:00.001-05:00

It's been a "flat" kind of week. Not great, not horrible, but somewhere in between.

I've physically felt bad all week, first with PMS hormones and then with a cold that is still lingering. I've not felt bad enough to stay in bed, but not good enough to do anything but the bare minimum.

It is a week of "lasts." This is the last week of summer break for the kids.

Luke's last day of preschool is today, and his last day of KinderGym (gymnastics for 4-5 year olds on the small kids equipment) was yesterday. He starts Boys Gymnastics in two weeks, which I'm excited about because he'll be working with a Russian (male) gymnast, and it's more like a real sport at that level. But it's been hard for him, the baby of the family, to adjust to all this growing up business. It's a bit hard for me, too.

I have stuck to good habits, though. I've kept the kitchen clean. I've kept the laundry caught up. I've kept the clutter picked up & put away. I've gone to bed at a decent hour, and fell asleep on the couch only on Sunday night. I've eaten breakfast every morning, and brought lunch to work every day, and had a clean dinner every night.

I haven't worked out since Saturday's 3 miles on the hotel treadmill. When I go this long without exercising, I feel disconnected from my body. When I don't workout, I have pent up frustrations and angst that don't have anywhere to go, which usually means I end up in the food.

I've struggled with snacking before bed this week. I could feel the urge to eat when I should be asleep, & I gave in a couple of times--nothing huge, but a nutrigrain bar and vanilla wafers at 10 pm on Wednesday night made me bloated in the morning, and yesterday my weight was 176.8, almost 2 pounds up in one day. Helen said she had potato chips one night and her weight went up 3 pounds. I guess it's normal to retain water when your body isn't used to processed food.

Last night I didn't have a starch with dinner, and at 9:30 I was craving starch. I had two sheets of graham crackers, only because there was (thank goodness) nothing else in the kitchen. I could have done much worse damage.

On Wednesday & Thursday I was beating myself up about not running this week. I have a training plan on my cubicle wall, getting ready for the October half, and I'm not getting in the miles. I was hoping to remedy that this week. It finally cooled off a bit yesterday, and I had the energy to do zip about it.

Today I'm working to be more realistic. I look at how well I've really done this week--all good things I've done to stay as even as possible--and it's not such a big deal. I have plenty of time to train. I will have more time next week when the kids start school and we are in a better routine. I won't have to drive either of them anywhere in the morning, as they will be riding the bus at 7:30 am, and I have one pick up location since they are at the same elementary school. This is HUGE.

We also joined Fancy Gym for another year. They were offering a discount, and we decided we'd take the money we have been spending on acupuncture and put it toward the gym. I have loved acupuncture, but I think it's run it's course for me for now. I will go back every couple months, probably, to maintain the energy flow. But for now, I think the classes at the gym will do me far more good than a one hour session of acupuncture.

So not a fabulous week, but not the worst, and I am looking at it realistically and planning for better days, hopefully as soon as this weekend.

****
Last year at this time, we were putting Dad in the nursing home. The two months he was at the nursing home were some of the worst in my life. It's incredible to look back and realize it's been a year already, and to realize how much better everything is now.

I think about Dad every single day, still. In the little things mostly, but the last year of his life haunts my memory daily. I don't often think of him in anger anymore. Mostly it's sadness now, at the opportunities for emotional and relational healing that he gave up, and sadness at what he suffered physically, and bewilderment at how he could allow himself to live that long in such misery, and how he could inflict his misery on others for so long and be oblivious or uncaring about how his choices affected others. I suppose that's normal, and it will lessen as time goes on.

Breakfast makes a difference (175.0)

2011-08-03T14:36:00.001-05:00

Breakfast used to be a time I ignored. I knew how important it was. Knew all about how it could shape the rest of the day, food and mood wise. Regardless, I usually opted for something easy that was loaded with sugar and caffeine, like Starbucks or Red Bull and some kind of carb food. There was little or no protein involved.

Since I started eating whole foods almost 6 weeks ago, breakfast has become a whole new experience. Now, I spend 20-30 minutes on breakfast. I may not always be hungry the second I wake up, but once I get the food started my stomach starts to growl.

Breakfast now includes a latte (125 cal) every morning (this is my only caffeine of the day). 1 cup 1% milk, 1 Tbsp Hershey's Lite syrup (yes, it's a bit of sugar, but it's 25 calories and I'm not ready to give it up yet), and 2 shots espresso. I've been drinking it iced lately.

Then I will have one of two breakfasts:

2 (organic, free range) eggs, over easy (140 cal)
2 slices Ezekial sprouted grain bread--toasted (160 cal)
1/4 avocado, which I spread on the toast like butter (~100 cal)

OR

1 serving eggbeaters (60 cals), with 1/4 c LF yogurt on the side (25 cals)
3/4 cup cooked steel cut oats (170 cals) with 1/2 cup frozen blueberries & raspberries (50 cals) and 1/8 cup walnuts (100 cals)

I measure everything. The first breakfast is 525 calories; the second is 530. I alternate them about every other day, or will have the 1st two days in a row, then the 2nd two days in a row. I love real eggs, but know that I can't eat two every single day.

When I first started eating this big of a breakfast, it seemed like waaayyy too much food. Now, I've adjusted. I sometimes eat half my oats in the kitchen and the other half while I'm getting ready for work (yes, in the bathroom, I don't care. I used to eat Ben & Jerry's in there, so there's not much difference except I don't eat my oats with the door locked).

When I don't binge eat at night, I wake up hungry. My body now expects this much food. I don't get hungry again for 4 or 5 hours. More importantly, I am not craving sugar or caffeine at 10 a.m. or 3 p.m., because my first meal is balanced and not sugar laden, and the rest of my meals are, too.

This morning I wasn't feeling well. My throat is scratchy and I feel like I'm getting a cold and am worn down (which started yesterday but it was worse this morning). For breakfast I only had a latte and egg beaters with yogurt. But that is an exception. I was hungry and feeling puny at 10:30, so I had 1/4 c cashews.

For lunch I had my breakfast oats w/berries & nuts, with 4 oz turkey slices and leftover zuch/squash/tomatoes from last night's dinner. I will have 1/2 cup cottage cheese and 2 mandarin oranges this afternoon as a snack.

Not sure yet what dinner will be--some kind of protein with veggies or a salad. Then around 8:30-9 pm I will have yogurt (half greek, half LF) and strawberries & fresh pineapple, probably with 1/8 c. walnuts thrown in for crunch. Kay Shepperd prescribes a fruit and dairy before bed, which is why I started having them together, and this last snack (for me) is helping to keep the late night food cravings away.

So that's the gist of my food day. I usually have a sweet potato with cinnamon at lunch instead of oats, but otherwise it's just the protein and veggies that alternate day by day. I sometimes have a starch at dinner, and sometimes I don't. Just depends on how the rest of the day has been.

I will likely have to adjust the amount of food I eat as my weight goes down. But I'll take that as it comes. Right now I'm happy to have stabilized my blood sugar every day. I don't crave foods unless I'm having hormone issues or shoving down emotions.

But it's not the FOOD that is causing cravings. Not anymore. It is such a relief.

Keeping my mouth shut--commitment vs. attachment (174.8)

2011-08-02T11:08:00.000-05:00

Since my last therapy appointment, I've been working on keeping my mouth shut more often.

Sometimes I speak out on big things when I shouldn't--like telling my sister how she needs to be in marriage counseling and her 19 year old stepson needs to be in therapy (he won't keep a job and has major emotional issues from a drug-addict mother). Or giving my mother marriage advice.

I also get too attached to the outcome of total strangers' lives, thinking that I know what would be best for them and if only they would do "x" then they would get better.

I often dig myself into a hole of emotional upset when it's entirely unnecessary. The big things can really get to me. That's a huge reason why I stopped participating in Facebook as often. I got too involved in the good and the bad of people's lives, most of whom are only acquaintances.

I also have been working to keep my mouth shut with little things. Because I "see" things faster or more clearly than other people, I often don't wait until they recognize it for themselves and instead speak up and tell them what needs to be done.

For example, this weekend when we were at our niece Kate's house for dinner, Mark was standing in front of a cabinet that nephew-in-law Michael needed to get into while cooking. I saw that Michael was trying to get a bowl, but Mark was oblivious. Usually I would have said, "Mark, can you move so Michael can get into that cabinet?" But I kept my mouth shut. Michael is a big boy; he can ask Mark to move. I didn't need to get involved.

It's stuff like that. And it happens to me all the time. It is an effort to keep quiet.

It happens with my kids a lot, too. I jump to add in a detail in a conversation, or I'll tell them what to do next with their current task, when I haven't given them the time they need to process what I've asked them to do the first time. Those things frustrate the kids, and make me look like a harpy.

When Julie and I talked about this in therapy, she pointed out there is a difference between attachment and commitment.

I can be committed to being the best person I can be, and that is it. I can influence other people by being a positive example. Commitment allows you to be who you are without imposing your opinions or judgments on other people.

Attachment is what we've talked about as being "invested" in the outcome of people's choices and their lives. Attachment means we think we have some control over their choices and the outcome of their situation. Attachment leads to emotional upset in ourselves because we obviously have no control over other people, and it leads us to disappointment and (for me) even anger.

She said people don't want advice; they don't want to feel judged, either. What people want more than anything is to BE HEARD.

People in your life can't be heard if you are the one doing all the talking.

This is especially important with kids. My kids want to be heard more than they want solutions. As my daughter is getting older, I am learning this more and more. The night after my therapy appointment, she was telling me about her day which had been a little rough, and I sat and listened for a good 20 minutes. She hugged me afterwards and said how lucky she was to have a mom like me who listens and understands.

!!!

I was amazed at the immediate pay off of keeping my mouth shut.

It's not been easy, and I've not been perfect at it. I have a lot of work to do, and have to keep reminding myself that People Want to Be Heard.

I have always wanted to Be Heard because I feel like I have all the answers. I know, not a great trait to have--it's very prideful. Pride is another issue I've been working on this year. So this keeping quiet business is going against 40 years of who I am.

I like it, though. I like being a listener. If you think about the people who are most liked, most admired by others, are they the ones who spout off in never ending streams of know it all monologues? No. The people who listen are those who are thought of fondly and kindly.

People who listen are people who don't feel like they have anything to prove.

I can learn to listen, and reduce my prideful need to be heard.

Weekend "Afters" and what to do next time (175.8)

2011-08-01T15:37:00.000-05:00

Our weekend trip was really great. It was easy travelling, the concert was fabulous, and our time with Mark's family was relaxing and enjoyable.

I did pretty well as far as eating went. No sugary stuff at the concert or hotel, and we had a healthy dinner of grilled chicken, salad, and strawberries on Saturday night.

I also woke up at 6:30 am on Saturday morning & did 3.1 miles on the hotel treadmill. I was happy about that, and even though I'd only gotten 5 1/2 hours of sleep, it felt great that I got up and worked out. I think it helped shape my food choices all day, too.

I didn't have birthday cake Saturday night. It was just a plain old cake, and I'd already had some last weekend and didn't feel the need to eat it. Also, our nephew-in-law made fabulous decaf lattes after dinner, and I'll take one of those over cake any day.

Last night was tough, though. Mark is having his own case of The Afters, mostly over turning 49 yesterday, which he didn't handle well. That transferred to me, and I could feel the anxiety and fear building in me all night. I had driven 4 hours yesterday; I unpacked and put everything away and started laundry (which is a big deal for me, usually I leave things in a suitcase for a week after a trip). I kept busy all afternoon & early evening, but instead of relieving me of anxiety, it exhausted me.

I read a novel to relax after the kids went to bed, and fell asleep around 10 pm-- on the couch. Mark was in the bedroom snoring loudly, and I was also in avoidance mode. I had done all I could for him but he was still coping badly, and I didn't want to deal with it any more. So I stayed in the family room.

Sleeping on the couch is deadly for me. I know this. I chose to avoid, and then fell into a mini-binge of two bowls of cereal at 1 am while I watched True Blood.

I knew it was coming, I thought off and on all night about how I could avoid the After, and I was just too tired to do anything about it.

It's not the end of the world, and I'm back on track this morning and made sure to weigh and didn't bury my head in the sand. I am not beating myself up, but I am examining what happened and trying to figure things out for next time.

This is not new territory, I realize. But I am looking at it from the perspective of eating whole foods for five weeks, which makes me clearer mentally and emotionally, and I'm trying to figure out what it is about the night binging that is so hard for me to give up in times of avoidance.

The questions I've been asking myself:

is it okay to get numb when I don't want to feel the fear and anxiety? or do I have a duty to myself to work through the fear and anxiety and feel it, instead of numbing it?

and if it's okay to get numb, is it okay to use food? and if it's not okay to use food, then what do I do?

and if it's not okay to get numb, then how do I cope when I feel like I have no energy reserves left to do anything else?

I don't have good answers yet, other than I intuitively feel that if I want to heal completely, I can't use food to escape. Saying it's okay to binge when I "need to" would be like telling an alcoholic she can have some drinks when she feels the need to escape.

I also expect that I will always have times when I feel like this but don't have the energy to deal, no matter how much I prepare for them. I guess that's when the food-alternative strategies need to come into play.

Now I need to figure out what those strategies might be.

Calories, my weight, and the weekend (174.6)

2011-07-28T11:31:00.001-05:00

I have to be honest. I was beginning to freak out a little bit when my weight was still 176.0 yesterday. I know I'm losing at the right rate, and last week's 175.2 marked a 5 pound loss in the past month. But the up-tick on Wednesday messed with my head. Knowing something in your head--like a small weight shift is no big deal--doesn't always translate to a rational emoitional response. I was thrilled with this morning's reading.

Freaked out and thrilled..... emotional responses to that number staring back at me from between my feet. Not exactly what I'm trying for this time.

But, alas, I'm still learning to unhook from the scale. That's going to be a long road, I think.

Last night I reviewed my food journal, which I've been keeping since June 28th (in hardcopy--a small Moleskine notebook). I've had 12 days of calories under 1,650. The rest have been days between 1,700-2,000, or days I haven't fully tracked (like the cake eating days last weekend).

For 3 out of the past 5 weeks I've run/walked 3 days; one week was 2 days; one week was 1 day.

I was thinking last night I might want to back my calories down a bit if I didn't start losing again soon. Today I think I want to keep them at the 1,600-1,700 level. That allows me room to exercise 3 days a week without feeling deprived or exhausted. And I think it also allows for the occasional day where I go over 1,700 calories. Emphasis on "occasional"; as in, 2 or 3 a month at most.

Ultimately, I'll know by what the scale says. It's determining how long I want to let my weight stay the same before I adjust the calories down (or, increase the aerobic activity, which I want to do anyway).

What IS the right time frame to allow for a steady weight before reducing calories? A month? Less? More?

I know there's no rush to lose this weight. But I also have a goal of weighing 155 by the end of February, for the Princess Half Marathon in Florida. I think that is attainable and not at all agressive--it's 20 pounds in almost 7 months. I'd like to weigh less, because I run faster when I weigh less, but I can run 13.1 miles at 155 pounds, and it won't kill my pace too badly.

So, we'll see.

Tomorrow we are taking the kids to Indianapolis to see Taylor Swift. We are staying at a hotel down town Friday night (walking distance to concert), and then Saturday afternoon we'll meet up with Mark's sister and niece's families for the pool and dinner, which will include celebrating Mark's birthday on Sunday (he shares a birthday with Harry Potter--July 31st ). There will be cake.

I haven't decided if I'm going to have a slice or not. I think "not" is the smart choice, since there was cake last weekend. But, it's his birthday and it won't be in my house or the house we are staying in Saturday night, so there won't be temptation for more. I will probably see how the rest of my food is up to that point before I decide.

Traveling is tough. I'm going to try my darndest not to gain weight on this trip. I am packing food and a cooler, so I will have my usual snacks. I know I can order healthy foods when we eat out; Saturday I think our niece & her husband are going to grill, so that will work out great.

I'm taking my running stuff & hitting the treadmill Saturday morning at the hotel. I have to get in 4 miles Saturday to stay on my half marathon training plan. A workout will help keep me focused on making healthy choices.

Saturday night we are staying with Mark's sister & her husband, in their new house. They will have healthy breakfast foods like oatmeal (real oats, not brown sugar & cinnamon in a small brown bag) and fruits.

The good news is that his family is very health conscious, and we are not visiting or staying in homes where they eat a lot of junk food.

I likely won't blog while I'm gone, so it may be Monday before I'm back here, unless I have anything pertinent to share. I can blog from my Blackberry, which is super cool.

Oh, and it's been absolutely lovely having a husband who isn't tied to school books! Wednesday morning as Mark was leaving for work, he had a lightness to his voice and face that I haven't seen in ages. I told him if I could read people's auras, I would say that his has finally changed from dark to light. It's a very good thing.

Therapy (forgiveness) (176.0)

2011-07-27T12:37:00.001-05:00

Monday was my 7th therapy appointment. I have a spreadsheet that I track everything related to my health on. I color code and number my therapy and acupuncture appointments. I track my cycle, and also my moods and intrusive thoughts. I log if I eat at night, my weight, and my workouts (type, distance, time). I note if there is anything big that happens that day, things like vacation or being out of town or any other family event.

I think this tracking helps me a lot. It's sort of like Vickie's green/red day calendar post. I started using a spreadsheet the first time I lost weight in 2007. I kept it up for about 3 years, I guess. I lost it when my harddrive died last year. I started this new one in February this year. On February 6, I weighed 176.6. My weight hasn't had a net change since then, but I gained 10 pounds and have lost 10 pounds in the the past six months. So, the spreadsheet tells a bigger story than the number on the scale alone.

On to the therapy appointment. I have made a lot of progress in my 6 therapy appointments. Obviously, though, I still have things I want to work on. I had made a list before I went so I'd know what to talk about, other than how much better I feel, which we did discuss for the first 10 minutes. Like most lists, I didn't get down to the real meat of what needs to be tackled first until I got to #8.

Have you heard that before? If you make a list outlining pros/cons/the "why's" of something, it's not until you get to the end that you find real meaning. I read that once, anyway, and it seems to be true, at least for me.

At any rate, my #8 was anger and resentment toward my mom. Ever since starting therapy, I have had a horrible time being around my mom. She has always driven me a little nuts, but dragging all this stuff up from my past has made it almost unbearable.

Since I started therapy, my mom has not changed. I have.

I have been at my absolute worst around her; another way to say that is, she brings out the worst in me. But that implies my behavior is her fault, and it isn't. I'm impatient and anger easily and am defensive. I punish her with passive agressive comments. I spend as little time as possible with her.

I explained all this to Julie. We talked more about the dynamics of our relationship. We eventually ended up at Forgiveness.

Julie asked me to define forgiveness. That was hard. I said it's not holding something against someone anymore, and forgiveness is more important to the forgiver than the forgivee. My mom doesn't even know I have anything to forgive her for.

Which is another reason I'm angry at her. She has no clue (or at least hasn't acknowledged that she has a clue) how abandoned and neglected and abused I felt as a young adolescent and teenager. I felt all those things, and on top of it, I feel that she knows me so little or cares so little or is so stinking unaware of the complexity of childhood and human beings, that she is ignorant or simply ignores how her actions and inactions have affected me so strongly.

I resent her. I feel the need to punish her. I'm angry at her.

I don't know how to forgive her.

Julie asked if forgiveness is the same as forgetting. I said yes, in a way, because I want to forget all those things she did/didn't do, because every time I'm with her, I feel those feelings. I want them gone, so I can forgive and forget.

Then Julie told me what she thinks forgiveness is. She said that forgiveness is acknowledging your past, acknowleding your pain, and proclaiming that you have survived. That you are okay NOW. And you can move on. Forgiveness is not letting the past infect your relationships now or control who you are now.

Forgiveness doesn't mean you have to say "that's okay." The way I've been brought up, when someone says "I'm sorry," you respond with "that's okay." I'm teaching my kids that by example. This is wrong. "I'm sorry" doesn't mean whatever was done to you was okay.

I realized in her office that that is why I can't forgive (based on my definition) my mom for the past. In my mind, if I forgive her, I am saying that what happened then is okay, and it's pretty freaking far from okay.

This new definition is taking some getting used to. I understand it, but it's a huge shift in thinking. I want to embrace it; I plan to. I don't want to feel all knotted up and angry when I'm with my mom. She doesn't do anything to me NOW that warrants my behavior (at least that I have examined; I am so wrapped up in the past it is hard to know that for sure).

Don Henley has a song called The Heart of the Matter. The bridge goes like this:
There are people in your life who've come and gone.
They've let you down. You know they've hurt your pride.
You better put it all behind you, baby. 'Cause life goes on.
You keep carrying that anger, it'll eat you up inside.

The last verse is:
I've been trying to get down, to the heart of the matter,
because the flesh will get weak, and the ashes will scatter.
So I think it's about forgiveness, forgiveness,
Even if, even if, you don't love me anymore.

I've been on a Don Henley kick the past week or so (which is how I roll; I like to listen to one artist for days and days, then switch to someone else). I've listened to his Actual Miles CD every morning, and these lyrics hit me hard every time.

I know I can forgive my mom, because it's not about her. It's about me. I survived. I am okay now. I can move on. I don't have to let the past control me anymore. I can let the light shine into that black box, and release it.

Julie said I need to find a way to work through this in a tangible way. Ideally, this would involve talking to mom about how I feel. She said that it's not necessary though; I don't feel the need to hurt my mom with all this.

Which is another issue in itself--I feel like it's my responsibility to protect her from being hurt, but that means it's okay that I hurt myself--which is totally not okay.

So she suggested I choose some kind of symbolism. I could write about it, print it out, and tie it to a balloon and set it free, or burn it. I thought of the idea of taking a magnifying glass and setting it on fire with sunlight. I like the symbolism of the light taking away the dark.

There was more, believe it or not. It was a very productive session. I'll write next time on commitment vs. attachment.

Tuesday weight update (175.4)

2011-07-26T16:52:00.001-05:00

Been very busy today, no time to post. I'm on track, doing well. Had a productive therapy appt yesterday that I will write about soon.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

The Successful "After" Weekend (176.8)

2011-07-25T11:05:00.003-05:00

Saturday was a packed day, but good.

I spent 2 hours Saturday morning getting our bedroom cleaned up. New duvet and clean sheets on the bed. I cleaned the year-old stacks of books and various other things from our nightstands. The clean bedroom was a gift to myself for getting through the last 3+ years of Mark's studying. And it was a gift to Mark too--a clean slate, with no more books or highlighters to crowd his sleeping area.

Then Sophie & I drove to my mom's & picked up Luke, and the three of us ran errands for over 3 hours. We got everything to decorate the house for Mark's return Saturday night. I bought flowers at The Fresh Market (a gorgeous bouquet for $6.99--a steal), balloons, crepe paper streamers, and a cake. More on the cake in a minute. We finally got home and I decorated while the kids relaxed. I think I sat down maybe a total of 30 minutes all day, which was a good thing. Busy hands and all that.

Mark got home around 7:30 pm, and he was pleased by the fuss we made over him. We had a great family night together. He still hasn't really adjusted to the fact that he's finished. It's going to be a big After for him, too.

So. The cake. It was 6" round--the smallest I could get. At first blush, the cake is a bad idea. We didn't NEED cake to celebrate. I chose to have cake because it is a traditional way to celebrate, and I pulled out all the stops for Mark. I wanted him to feel special.

I had a slice Saturday night when Mark got home, and one slice Sunday. It was not my downfall this weekend.  I didn't do my usual dance with the cake--where I take a fork and eat straight from the box in the middle of the night. I mindfully sat down and ate a piece when everyone else did, and allowed myself to savor the sweetness, and let it be.

I think allowing myself to have some cake let me get through The Afters of the weekend without binging. Because I did. not. binge. At all. Not once. The only sugar I had all weekend was the two slices of cake.

After I look at how the weekend went down, food wise, I can see that allowing myself the small bits of sugar pleasure--and not making it forbidden and therefore something I obsessed about all weekend--was, for me, a good way to cope without having a full-on binge meltdown.

It is important to note that I kept the rest of my food stable and normal. I ate cake after I had had a meal with protein, and my next meals were exactly what I would have had if I hadn't had cake. I think the sugar impact was lessened because of it.

The cake was a lot of sugar, though. I wasn't used to it. I didn't need much to satisfy me. Much less than I would have eaten in the past. I also had a cup of milk with each cake slice, and that protein may have tempered the sugar, too.

We spent all day Sunday at home. The kids never got out of their PJs. It was a nice family day, and we all needed to chill out. I kept very busy, but also made time to rest and play.

All of our hampers are empty and there is only one basket of towels left to be folded (which Sophie will do as one of her chores).

I had finished our vacation photo album Saturday; I left open slots on many pages for journaling papers and started writing them on Sunday. I cleaned up my scrapbooking table and got things organized for my next projects.

I read a while on my Kindle. I played charades with the family for about 45 minutes. We sat around and talked about the new Harry Potter movie (which Mark went by himself to see Saturday night at 10:45 pm because he couldn't stand to wait any longer).

I ate cleanly, didn't have the wants, didn't take a nap, didn't feel bereft, didn't yell at anyone or get impatient or angry. It was a nice, steady day.

Mark and I had a long talk last night after the kids went to bed. I was glad we got the conversation going right away, instead of waiting. We have put our relationship on hold for over 3 years. He did an amazing job of staying connected to our kids during these insanely intense 3 years. He has made a living for us and we are still in business. He has his bachelors degree. He took a 10 hour exam that he put in over 400 study hours for; that doesn't count the 6 trips to Philadelphia and the hours he spent working and studying there.

The 3 years he has been studying have encompassed a lot of drama. The stock market crash of 2008. My dad's year long illness and death, and all the stress that went with it. My depression and weight gain. Mark's own health issues, especially his lower back pain. Our daughter's migraines and ADHD, which, praise the Lord, we finally found resolutions for in the summer of 2009 and she has been healthy ever since.

It's frankly a miracle we have a marriage left at all, after the immensity of what we have faced. But we do. I am blessed to have a sensitive, emotional, intelligent, communicative husband who wants to rebuild our relationship. And I am excited to see what happens next.

I told him last night that I have no expectations. I am leaving the future open, not setting up rigid guidelines for how I want my life and our lives to be. I don't want to set ourselves up for failure.

There were many times during our talk where I could have gotten defensive, let my pride get in the way. I didn't. I stopped, I thought, I let encouraging words come out of my mouth. I can get my feelings hurt easily, and I often interpret things the wrong way. I didn't let that happen last night.

I am fully aware that the recent topics on several of our blogs--on graceful living mostly, and my realization that my reactions to people are often prideful, and not the way I want to live my life--are a big reason I was able to do this. I am also aware that not have sugar coursing through my veins also allowed me to think more clearly.

And the 53 minute 4 mile run I went on at 6 pm last night, in the drizzly cool blessed rain, helped rid my mind and body of stress and anxiety.

Considering what a huge After this weekend was, I am happy with how things went. I am not wallowing in regret. I am relishing the peace and joy that enveloped our family.

Today, I am happy.

No Ben, No Jerry (175.2)

2011-07-22T12:03:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was an extremely frustrating day. I got to work at 8 a.m. because Mark is out of town. Our email server was changed the night before, but it was only supposed to affect the other broker & his assistant, and not Mark & me. But when I got to the office yesterday morning, we had no email, and Mark wasn't getting his emails on his Blackberry.

I wasn't involved in the process at all, and the service provider gave my coworker the wrong information, so it was a giant cluster-youknowwhat.  I did something to my PC in the process that messed things up (I know just enough about computers to be dangerous, and trying to do something myself bit me in the butt), so it took even more time than it should have. All in all, updating Blackberries and fixing emails and my PC (had to call in the computer guys that work in our building), I spent almost 7 hours in a big mess and being highly frustrated.

Not once did I think of eating my way through it.

I left the office at 4:30 and went straight to the movies (mom has the kids yesterday and today, so I could get to work by 8 am. Sophie didn't have any camps this week). I saw Harry Potter--wonderful!--and didn't want to eat anything there, either. Movies are a big eating trigger for me. This was the first time I didn't NEED something to eat while there. Maybe it was because I was by myself and no one was with me eating popcorn and candy. Or maybe I've gotten past the desire for movie+food. I'll be going to see HP again with Mark & Sophie, so I'll see what happens then.

After the movie, I went home and got straight into my running gear. I headed out at 7:30 and went running/walking for 3 miles. It was hot, and there was no breeze. But I'm getting stronger and was able to run more than walk. My asthma kicked in after about 30 minutes, after I'd pushed myself at a 9:30ish pace for a tenth of a mile. A tight, burning chest in oppressive heat was enough to slow me down for the last 10 minutes. I got home and showered, ate some yogurt and fruit, took my meds, took care of the dog, talked to Mark, checked my emails, and headed to bed. I was asleep around 10 pm.

In the past, a day like yesterday coupled with a night to myself would have meant an excuse to indulge my love affair with Ben & Jerry. B&J are notorious for giving me immense ice cream pleasure. Chubby Hubby, Phish Food, Triple Carmel Delight--all are past consorts that I have lovingly adored, usually a full pint at a time.

Not once did I have the desire to drive to Walgreens for a pint.

I talked to Mark before bed, and told him about this little victory. He knows about Ben & Jerry, and knows if he discovers a pint in the freezer, that I'm not doing well. It felt really good to tell him about my horrific day, and how well I coped. I had the escapism I needed in Harry Potter, and I wore my body out so I didn't have the opportunity to ruminate or feel alone. I slept really well last night.

The scale finally moved down. My clothes continue to feel looser. My legs are looking better (I have great calves from running, and they are getting that contour and cut back again). My face is slimming down already. Positive reinforcement for positive change.

I don't need compliments this time. I'm not waiting on pins & needles waiting for when someone will ask me "are you losing weight?"   I don't need anyone else's external acknowledgement that my body is getting smaller.

The trip down the scale, this time, is much different than in 2007. The trip down the scale, at 175 now, is much different than the trip up the scale in the past year. When I first hit 175 on the way up, I felt horrible and like a failure. Now it feels good to finally be solidly under 180, and making my way back to my size 12 body, which means I'm that much closer to my size 8 body.

But I am making the most of the journey this time--even though I am impatient to get the fat suit off--and there's no rush and no pressure.

Making hay while the sun shines (176.6)

2011-07-21T16:29:00.001-05:00

I have felt better this past month than I have in the past two years.

I am not "elated" or on some kind of high. But after being depressed for so long, the lifting of spirit that has happened to me recently is a tremendous improvement.

It has not been one thing. It has been many things.

First and foremost is therapy. Something happened after the "invisible/control" session, which includes the revelations in my blog post about my weight gain after Dad died. I don't know the science of therapy or how an expert would describe what happened. But to me, it felt like I opened that dark box and let the light in. And the light made room for better things to replace the dark box.

I still cry every time I think about that session (like, right now as I'm writing this). Which tells me the pain isn't gone yet, and there are still dark boxes that need to be dealt with. And that's okay. I've started the process and am moving forward; that's what matters.

Second is the Whole Food change. I still don't know what to call how I'm eating. And when I say that, I mean I don't know how to respond to people like my mom and my friends (although I haven't been in a social environment all month, so it hasn't come up with them yet) when communal food opportunities comes up. It's not a diet, because there is no end. I'm not eating processed foods; I'm eating whole foods.

I guess I don't have to say anything but "no, thank you." Explanations just sort of get in the way and bring out my prideful side anyway. An explanation from me can end up sounding like "no, I don't want to eat that processed junk you are eating because I'm only eating whole foods now, but you go right ahead and fill your body with that crap." Not the most gracious way to respond. I think I'll work on my "no, thank you's" and shutting my mouth.

At any rate, not eating sugar or processed foods has been a revolutionary change. The times I have eaten them, I have felt much, much worse emotionally. Now that could be a chicken/egg thing--I ate when I was very hormonal, when I was feeling bad emotionally anyway. But I know what sugar-rage feels like, and it is different from hormonal-rage.

There's also sugar-bloat and sugar-coma and sugar-cotton-mouth and sugar-rush and sugar-crash and sugar-craving and sugar-obsession and sugar-holy-cow-I-can't-wear-my-pants-anymore. Those things are gone.

I do not feel food deprived. I am happy to make and eat breakfast every morning. I love discovering that greek yogurt, strawberries+pineapple, and walnuts taste like heaven (and don't make me crave more, more, more). I love not spending money on drive thrus or take out. I love that my clothes are looser.

Third is (possibly, probably) the medication (lamotrigine) I started a little over a month ago. You have to titrate up slowly to avoid side effects. So the 1st two weeks were 25 mg, the 2nd two weeks were 50 mg, and then Monday we bumped up to 75 mg. The therapeutic dose isn't supposed to be reached until 100 mgs, but the nurse practitioner said that she wouldn't be surprised if I am seeing some relief from the lower doses. "Go slow, stay low" is the mantra for these types of meds, she said, so we are going to go to 75 for a month and see how I feel.

Fourth, I'm sleeping much better. I am not staying up until 11 pm or midnight. I get in bed around 9:45 or 10, and by 10:30 I am asleep. I usually wake up once to go pee, but I go back to sleep fairly easily for the most part. I'm not yet an early riser, but I could see me getting there soon.

Lastly, I'm blogging nearly every day. I'm relying on the blog community and my long-time blog friends for support and advice and real learning. I stopped blogging when I was depressed and gained weight; I felt like I didn't have anything positive to share. I started blogging almost everyday when I felt better and am losing weight. But... is this a chicken/egg thing too? What if I'd never stopped blogging? What if I didn't bury my head in the sand for a year and ignore reality? Would I have learned these things a year ago? Honestly, it doesn't matter either way. I can't change the past. But I throw that out there for anyone who reads this and isn't blogging because she is depressed and gaining weight. Maybe she'll read this and be ready to change, and start blogging regularly again to discover her own truths sooner rather than later.

So all these things (and probably more that just haven't come to mind yet) add up to me moving forward on a regular basis. I am making hay while the sun shines. For me, making hay means:

I cleaned my closet. Every day I get to see an organized closet with clothes that fit me, instead of being assaulted by what I can't wear and by the disorganization.

I stay on top of the laundry. I have been doing some kind of laundry activity almost every night. I did not spend last weekend up to my eyeballs in full hampers and overflowing baskets of clean clothes, because I had been working on it all week. All our hampers are only 1/4 full, and as of last night, mine was empty.

I keep the kitchen clean. I unload the dishwasher almost immediately and keep dirty dishes off the counter and in the dishwasher.

I cleaned up the clutter in my "hot spots" in the kitchen. Anyone ever follow The Fly Lady? I used to years ago; had a control journal and everything (which was just another excuse to plan and not DO, but that's a post for another day). She talks about living in "chaos"--Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome. She tells you to start avoiding chaos by shining your kitchen sink every night. Start with a clean kitchen, and the rest will follow. Keep the hot spots--where things gather and clutter--to a minimum by having a "one touch" rule. I'm a bit obsessive about it now, but I have to be or else it gets out of control in no time.

I started our vacation photo album last night. Not a scrap book, but using a scrap book quality photo album (from Creative Memories). I ordered the photos last week, which was a huge endeavor to begin with (we took over 500 pictures and a ton of video). I decided last night that instead of moping or eating or feeling lonely, I'd give our family the gift of memories by Doing Something with our pictures. It doesn't have to be done all at once. I am not in an "all or nothing" place with these pictures. I am not waiting until I've finished Luke's baby album and our Christmas album and the kids' school albums to work on our 2011 Vacation album. I am starting where I am, and will do what I can, and will work backwards until there's nothing to work backwards to anymore. I may be 60 before everything is finished. So what. I'll be 60 anyway someday. Might as well be 60 with photo albums completed than 60 with a "woulda/shoulda/coulda" complex.

I am running again, and planning for an October half marathon (my 6th) and a February half marathon (in Florida at Disney with 5 other women). I dug all my race medals out of my jewelry box the other day. They were tangled and unloved. I gathered them together and thought, "These medals are something to be displayed, not buried under a mound of tangled jewelry. They each represent 13.1 miles, and every race--no matter how slow or fast--is a triumph. Why on earth would I bury these symbols of my accomplishments?!"

So they are going to be displayed in my bedroom by my bedside table (I am looking for some display hooks this weekend). Not in the family room or the hallway--I do not want to appear boastful or proud. But I do want to remind myself that I am a runner. That every year since 2008 I have run at least one 13.1 mile race. And I want a place where each time I run a new race, I can honor that run for what it is--a personal miracle and gift.

It's not just about the races, though. Those medals will be there to remind me that
Every single day that I get out of bed and stand on my own two feet and move forward with purpose, it is a personal miracle--and a gift.

THE Test is this weekend (176.0)

2011-07-20T12:24:00.002-05:00

My husband leaves for Indianapolis today. He is staying with his sister and brother in law in their new house, which is very nice and comfortable, and his sister will make sure Mark eats well and is rested. The CFP exam starts Friday (3 hours) then continues on Saturday (7 hours, with a 1 hour break for lunch).

Three years of work boils down to 10 hours. He finished his bachelor's degree in 2 years, specifically so he could take the CFP exam, which he's been studying for for 17 months (there was overlap with finishing school and starting CFP prep).

For the majority of our son's life, who is 5 1/2, my husband has been studying.

Mark does most of his work in our bed, which drives me nuts but it's his way and I can't change him (and we don't have a spare room for a separate office). The duvet is a mess--ink and highlighter marks in enough places that it's a mess. I am getting a new duvet this weekend while he's gone.

The kids and I are going to decorate the house Saturday and welcome him home with balloons and streamers and kid-made posters. We won't know if he has passed the test for 2-3 months. But, either way, it's a victory that after Saturday, he's FINISHED.

And yes, it is going to be a big AFTER adjustment. I envision that we are both going to want free time, but in different ways. I don't know what he expects--we haven't talked about it. He isn't a "future plans" kind of guy; he has a hard time looking beyond the moment, especially when he's focused on a big task like this test. So I guess next week we'll have to talk about it, although I'm not going to ambush him. The best plan is probably to relax my expectations, take it easy, and, above all, communicate.

I did go running/walking last night, in the heat. I went out at 6:45 and it was still in the 90s. There was a breeze, which was nice, but it was still very hard to breathe while running. So I walked a lot, and jogged for a tenth or two of a mile at a time. It didn't matter that I walked--I was moving for 45 minutes and when I was finished, I was wrung out and much more at peace with myself. I love it when workouts work their magic.

Creativity and Play: Links from Jen (177.2)

2011-07-19T13:19:00.001-05:00

Jen has written several insightful posts (here and here and here, and there may be more but those are enough for you to get the general idea) about the work of author Brené Brown, PhD. I really identified with Jen's posts and the information she shared, especially about shame.

I finally looked at Dr. Brown's website today, and read several of her blogs. I've bought both her books on my Kindle today, and expect to start reading them this week.

A couple of her blogs stood out to me today. These are things that are absolutely missing in my life.

Creativity--she says, "As long as we’re creating, we’re cultivating meaning."

And Play--she lists this quote from Brian Sutton-Smith: "The opposite of play is not work; it's depression."

She also writes:

"Stuart Brown has done wonderful research on play - his book has really helped me get my head and heart around play. Rather than defining play, Brown proposes seven properties of play.

One property of play is that it's time spent without purpose. In our culture that's also known as an anxiety attack. Our TO-DO lists are so extensive that we feel like slackers if we're not working to check off tasks every single minute of the day and night. Even sleep has started to feel self-indulgent.

Brown also identifies losing track of time as an important property of play.

I can't remember the last time I was creative or played. I don't even know what would constitute either for me.

Almost everything I do is related to getting a task completed, even when it's a fun task. Now there's an oxymoron.

The quote "opposite of play is not work; it's depression" really hit me.

I need more play in my life. I think my trail running was the closest I've come to play in a long time (and that was in the guise of a workout, but ultimately it was an adventure and fun). I know that scrapbooking has been a creative outlet, but right now there is so much stacked up and disorganized--I just feel behind and it's a task, not creativity. I don't play with my kids--that's left to their dad; the time he spends with them is always play, and he's really good at it. My time with the kids is almost all business--homework, chores, appointments, activities (singing for Sophie, gymnastics for Luke), errands. We watch movies together and have down time, but often even when that's happening, I'm folding laundry or doing some other housework while the movie is on.

I don't know how to have fun. Or, better said, I don't allow myself to have fun. There is always too much to do, too much to clean, too much on my shoulders, and if I don't do it, who will? Ultimately, I think those thoughts are prideful and martyr-driven, and are the example that was set for me by my mom and my grandmother.

Yet another area to improve and grow. But this one, by its very nature, should be fun filled. Guess I'll put "have fun" on my next to-do list. :)

Monday post (177.4) - Hormones a ragin'

2011-07-18T11:03:00.001-05:00

Please see the other post from today (below) for some very important realizations I had this weekend. I think they may help a lot of you who struggle with the same issues.

This post is to update what's going on with me from the rest of the weekend.

I had a very rough Sunday, preceded by a semi-tough Saturday. I had the epiphany about not straddling the fence of dysfunction Saturday morning. It helped me deal with my Friday carb binge. Saturday for dinner we went out to eat at our favorite Japanese hibachi grill restaurant. I had eaten healthfully all day, and knew that the food at the restaurant would be OK, but the stuff they add to the food (butter, salt in soy sauce, MSG) would not be. I knew, but I agreed anyway because both Mark & Sophie wanted to go. I did not eat to the point of being stuffed. I was comfortable, not overly full in anyway. But the sodium and extra carbs from the rice surely took its toll.

Sunday Mark left for the office at 7 am. He took a practice exam over the weekend (3 hours Saturday, 7 hours Sunday). I had decided not to go to church, so the kids and I could have a stay-home day and because I was not up for fielding all the "where's Mark?" questions.

I was extremely hormonal Sunday. I've talked about this before--my mid-cycle hormones are in many ways worse than PMS. I get angry, and feel reckless (like, wanting to listen to Pearl Jam in the car and drive really, really fast), and have a lot of intrusive thoughts. I live inside my head during this time, and have to push a lot of stuff down, because what I feel and think aren't appropriate to share with anyone else. And added to all that, I was feeling quite lonely from very little adult interaction lately.

I resolved that morning, just as I had Saturday morning, to stay on plan. I ate a good breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I took a xanax at 11 am because I was ready to blow up at the kids, and I didn't want to put them or myself through that. I kept busy with dishes, laundry, and cleaning. I read a book. I watched part of Harry Potter with Sophie. We went to Target and got school supplies.

I did not eat my way through the day. At one point, when I went out to get food for dinner for the kids & Mark at Dairy Queen (burgers--I was not up to grilling or fixing anything else for them), I fought and won the battle of "Ice Cream Screaming My Name." I told myself that I would not feel better eating a small cone or a large cone. That no amount of ice cream was going to take away the feelings. That I could feel them and not die. That they were only temporary and would pass as soon as the hormones were through with me.

A little miracle occurred--I believed it. I believed it all, and I didn't get ice cream, and a real sense of peace came over me.

At 5:30 Sophie had a friend call and ask her to see a movie. Mark wanted to take Luke to see Winnie the Pooh, too, so by 7:15 pm the house was mine. I was sleepy from the 11 am xanax and from being on the go all day long. I fell asleep while reading a book for about 30 minutes. I woke up and got up off the couch, and knew I was doomed.

I couldn't go back to sleep, because I had to be available for the kids when they got home. All I wanted was to have the Horrible Day over with. I regretted not having the energy to go running while I had time to myself. I had fought the cravings and the emotions and the feelings all day.

I was tired of fighting.

I ate.

It was the usual suspects. Carbs, fat, sugar--wrapped up in destructive bags and boxes and cellophane wrappers. 880 calories in five minutes. I knew what I was doing but couldn't stop. I had no control left. I was aware enough that I counted the cost in calories. I stopped when I had enough in my body to soothe the angst; it could have been worse. There was no ice cream involved.

The stash I raided was the "kids' fun food." It will be thrown out tonight when I get home. They ask for it at the store, I cave in, they have ONE serving, I put it away, then I finish it off in times like this. Sabotage. It's senseless and counterproductive.

I woke up late this morning, but ate a healthy breakfast. I cursed the scale, but knew I had to weigh and not bury my head in the sand. My fingers are puffy--I am bloated from Saturday's salt and yesterday's junk.

I will take this weekend and USE IT. I will not hide from it. I will not lie on this blog and pretend that I'm perfect and healed and have it all together. I am far, far from it.

But I'm getting closer. Even when I take a step back, like I did this weekend, I can turn it around and start moving forward again.

I started keeping track of what causes "the afters." I will write a separate post later in the week about what they are, and add to it as I discover them. A big problem I face is this: I don't know what all my "after" triggers are, and I don't know how to deal with them even when I DO know. I know there are things to do to keep me even and healthy, which I am not doing enough of (like running, so I can have endorphins in my brain). Those things are proactive. It's the "reactive" that I need help with.

I have a therapy session next Monday. I meet with the nurse practitioner tonight, and will likely have my med increased (very slow titration up, and probably won't get to useful dose for another 4-6 weeks).

I know that when Mark is through with his test this coming weekend, things will get better. We have both been a hostage to his study time the past few months, which have been very intense and very lonely for us both. Surely I can survive one more week.

Dependency on Others vs. Dependency on Ourselves (very important)

2011-07-18T10:31:00.000-05:00

The comments below from Vickie were left in comments on my Friday post. They are very important, and warrant a post of their own. I hope you read all the way through, to my response at the bottom.

Vickie said:

Okay, one thing I just realized is this is the first time, since I have known you, that you have NOT been dependent on a 3rd party for your process.

Yes, you are taking bits and pieces from things and using tools (kay, me, whoever, therapist, doc, meds).

But you are totally standing on your own two feet.
I think this is the first time I have seen you do this (rely on yourself and not get tied into 3rd party plan or person) in regard to the outer change. And as you said, this is also the first time you have done really addressed your inner work too.

To be honest, when I see people tied to packages, partners, groups, etc, I always feel trepidation. That is sort of putting ones eggs in someone else's basket instead of our own.

yes, I get that we all support each other and we all gain ideas from other people's experiences. not talking about that. I guess what I am talking about is REALLY OWNING one's process.

we have to actually do it ourselves. We have to be dependent/responsible for ourselves.

(part of this also is our stopping feeling responsible for others as a means of avoiding our own lives. my former volunteer work is a good example.)

the dependency on others thing -

We can't have our process stop or stall because we stop going to the group (or it goes out of business), or because we loose our trainer or partner or whatever.

We have to change constantly. We can outgrown people (to put it plain) easily. The easiest way to think about this is my classes, I have needed to step up intensity many times over the years. I would think running partners would be the same as paces change. (I don't think it probably happens as much with sponsors in step programs because the fundimentals remain the same.)

but I really think that standing in our own shoes and NOT putting responsibility in someone else's hands, no matter how subtly, is a major part of the process.

this 'dependency on ourselves' and having to drop dependency on others comes into play with enabling and codependency too.

we can not straddle both worlds and stay balanced for some of these people [emphasis by Laura]. Can't play the dependency/enabling game when we aren't that way any more. this is true in blog land. it is true in real life.

And that ties into your uncle post from the other day. We all try to have those family members turn into supportive people in our lives. We can't do that for them. If they figure out how to change to fit into our lives, it is their choice. If they don't, that is their choice too. I know it is hard, because deep inside us there is a little girl who wants them to be functional. When we learn to be functional, it is very hard to deal with the nonfunctional. We can't invested in being both.

Laura's response to Vickie's comments:
I haven't been able to name why it is so hard to listen to my sister go on and on about her husband and stepson and friends--all highly dysfunctional. Or listen to my mother go on and on about her husband and all of her issues--highly dysfunctional. But that's why. I have outgrown (am outgrowing) the dysfunction. I don't want to straddle the fence any longer.

I am still too invested--I just explained (again) to my sister [Thursday] why she and her husband need marriage counseling (because they have no role models and have never learned what a good marriage or parents look like--she got it, for the first time, finally it sunk in). But, I am finished giving her advice. It takes too much out of me. Your comment has helped me see that.

I had an "after" night [Friday night]. Should have been asleep, but ate graham crackers instead. I didn't understand what had triggered it, until now. It was my sister, and probably seeing her and mom and grandmother all at Sophie's day camp play, and the culmination of all Mark's work boiling down into this last week before his test.

[Saturday] morning I weighed, accepted the .6 gain, and resolved to carry on with whole foods instead of falling into a pit of despair and sugar. Before, I would easily have tossed 3 weeks of health away for a weekend of "what the heck." Not now. Now, the healing on the inside is too important to wreck the healing on the outside.

Minutia (avacados, nuts, yogurt, boundaries...in comments) (176.4)

2011-07-15T14:33:00.001-05:00

I ran 3 miles last night. It was hot, but not impossible (87 degrees with 49% humidity) but I told myself that runners push themselves to build endurance. 3 miles in 40 minutes in the late day heat is pretty good for me. I was pleased.

I am finding I can't eat walnuts. :(``` Very sad for me. I have been having headaches the past few days, after I eat walnuts. I have problems with almonds and pecans and peanuts, in quantities larger than around 1/8 of a cup. I have been eating walnuts everyday (usu. 1/4 c or 1/4 + 1/8 c a day) for the past couple of weeks, and I think that whatever it is that causes headaches has finally built up enough in my system that I can't eat them that often anymore. I will have to find another healthy fat.

Vickie, I know avocados are an option; will it make you laugh to hear I've only ever eaten them on a salad at a restaurant? I've never peeled (or whatever you do to them) an avocado in my home. I'm not a guacamole eater, and we just don't eat them. I like them, and am willing to try my hand at them, so that will be on the shopping list this weekend.

I had to cut back my melatonin to half a 5 mg tablet. I was having problems waking up even at 7 am, when I took my meds at 9 and was asleep by 10 pm. So I cut it in half last night, slept fine, and woke up at 6:30 am feeling OK. Hopefully that will be a dose that works and I will stay asleep all night.

Tomorrow marks 3 weeks on the whole foods eating plan. I love it. I need to mix up the food prep, so I don't get bored. I am thrilled with how the cravings are practically non-existent. I don't have crazy food thoughts that cause me to obsess about what I am going to eat next.

My size 14 dress I'm wearing today is big in the chest, shoulders, and armholes (you can see the side of my bra) and loose in the skirt (not that loose, though... the hips are going to be the last to go).

Tomorrow morning I'm planning on running 4 miles. The October half marathon is 12 weeks away, and I started training this week.

Sophie has the lead role in the musical her fine arts day camp is putting on this week. She is playing a boy; the play is an adaptation of the Prodigal Son story, set in current day in a small town. It's about 30 minutes long. This is her second acting role this summer. I think she may be a budding thespian. It starts in 30 minutes, so I'm off to see her.

Clean the Inside of the Cup (176.4)

2011-07-14T13:52:00.000-05:00

In Matthew 23 there is this passage:
"Woe to you, experts in the law and you Pharisees, hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and the dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup, so that the outside may become clean too!"

I know Jesus isn't talking to the Pharisees about a weight problem. But I love how this is similar to what we talk about with getting our insides to match our outsides.

My insides still have a lot of work that needs to be done. I've just scratched the surface, I know that, even though I've done some significant work already.

Before work today I ran to Target to get a few things, and I bumped into my Aunt Janet who works there. This is my dad's sister, who is very nice and kind.  We talked briefly about the issue of my dad's headstone--which we are just now getting, and which my other two aunts have complained loudly and obnoxiously over because of the delay--and it understandably brought up some grief. My sister and I had both put off getting the headstone, because it has been too hard to deal with.  We didn't do it when we made all the funeral arrangements, which was stupid, but for whatever reason, it was just too FINAL for both of us, so we procrastinated. The cemetary is over an hour away; it's not like we go up there on a regular basis (I haven't been since the funeral). My two complaining aunts, however, make a pilgrimage 3 or 4 times a year to the family plots; so they felt like we let them down, and blah blah blah, why hasn't it been done yet?

As I was leaving Target and driving in the car, this all got me thinking about my uncle Phil.

My uncle who was there for my dad and my sister and me while Dad was sick and dying. My uncle who is a Christian and wears his faith on his sleeve. My uncle who called me every week or so while dad was sick and after he died, just to see how I was doing. My uncle who made so many comments about my body and how I looked that I believe he was one of the catalysts to why I gained 30 pounds.

Instead of thinking "I am so glad I don't have to talk to him and be on tenter hooks about what his next inappropriate comment about my body will be," I thought "Why doesn't he call and check on me? Doesn't he care about me anymore?"

Logically, I do believe the first thought. In my head, I know it is best to cut ties right now, and not have his influence in my life, which makes me want to hide and be invisible (which is what the gained weight is all about).

But in my heart, it really hurts. He is one more man in my family who has let me down. Who ignores me, like my dad did for 10 years after he and my mom got a divorce. Who was interested in me as long as there was something in it for him, which was a lot--my dad gave him his new Toyota Avalon; my uncle's son got almost all the furniture in dad's house; after dad died, my sister and I both gave a big chunk of money from his life insurance to my uncle and his son for helping out with dad.

His son lived at my dad's house for 5 months after Dad died (he was living with my dad while he was sick, too--rent free the entire time, even after dad's death).  He didn't pay the last two months of the electrical bills, and instead moved out and left the bill for me to pay. I called his son and asked him to pay it; it was over $500. It wasn't about the money, although it is a lot of money. It was the principal of the matter. He was taking advantage of me, and I wasn't going to have it. I was very polite and civil when I talked with him and texted him; I am not a confrontational person for the most part, but I was adamant that he pay the bill. He never did; neither did I. It's in collections now, which is unfortunate for the energy company but it's not my responsibility.

Since then, which was back in March, my uncle hasn't called me once to check on me. This leads me to not only be disappointed in my uncle, but also to think that it is in part my fault that he's not calling, my fault that he doesn't care about me anymore.

I know this is irrational thinking. It is the same sort of thing I thought about my dad for my entire life. I had to be perfect, or he wouldn't love me.

I still struggle with the few confrontations I had with dad while he was in the depths of ALS.  There weren't many. I gave Dad eveything he wanted--and he wanted a lot of stupid stuff that put hardships on other people. But still to this day I feel bad about those times; if only I hadn't said or done this or that, he wouldn't have been upset with me and told me I didn't love him in that last month in the nursing home. I would have been perfect, and he would have loved me.

I needed to write about this today because my next therapy session isn't until July 25th, and I needed to get it on the outside instead of pushed down on the inside.

The inside of my cup is riddled with hurt and pain and lack of understanding and irrational thinking.  I'm thankful I've started the cleaning process.

The Weight and Calorie Update (176.6)

2011-07-13T13:59:00.002-05:00

My weight is stable, and isn't dropping dramatically from day to day. Contrary to what a dieter might think, this is a good thing.

My body seems to be on a two week cycle. I will lose 2-3 pounds, then maintain that for about two weeks, then lose another 2-3 pounds. This is the same pattern I noticed when I lost weight in 2007. As long as I'm keeping my food healthy and even and whole, then it's no big deal. And as long as I know this is how my body works, then I can unhook my self worth from the scale reading.

Other than a couple of "blow up" days, I have been eating an average of ~1,500 calories a day since I started the "eat only whole foods" plan 2.5 weeks ago. It is very hard to get in more food than that without feeling like I'm overeating. I know that might sound a little nuts. I just feel full and am not eating when I'm not hungry, so putting more food on the menu seems counter intuitive right now.

I haven't been running much, because it's been so stinking hot, even in the mornings (when the heat index is 104 at 10:30 PM, you know a 5:30 am run is not going to happen if you are half way sane... there were people running in the afternoon when the heat index was 115-120. They are clearly not sane). I got on the treadmill yesterday for 30 minutes, which isn't much at all but is better than zero.

I am planning to run the October Half Marathon, which means I start a 12 week training program next week, so when my running increases, my food may increase some too. I'm going to wait and see what my body needs and not automatically say "hey, I'm running 4 miles tomorrow, hand me a big plate of pasta!" The Kay Sheppard plan (which I'm mostly doing, but not strictly) supports 45 minutes of cardio a day. Unless I'm going longer than 3 miles, I won't need more calories.

So that's that. I am off to go have lunch and finish my work day.

Food Games: Sugar is very, very Bad for Me

2011-07-11T14:21:00.002-05:00

Friday afternoon, as I was going over our weekend schedule, I realized I was teaching Adult Sunday School this Sunday. Summer Sunday school for adults is one big class of about 35 people, and a different church member teaches every week. Last year I spent about 45 hours (over the course of a week) on a lesson on Nebuchadnezzar. It was a lot of work, but it was worth it and I enjoyed the research, putting together the visual presentation, and the subject matter. I did well on it and received a lot of compliments.

This year, thankfully, I was given a Bible study guide that had all the material in one place for me to put together a lesson. My subject was Josiah, an Old Testament king who isn't well known but was one of the most important and faithful kings Israel ever had. I spent about 8 hours Saturday--4 in the morning (kids were at my mom's so it was uninterrupted), and 4 at night--getting it ready.  It was a lot less intensive than last year, but still took up a great deal of time and energy that I hadn't realized I was even going to have to expend until late Friday.

Even so, my reading and research on Saturday morning was actually very moving and, I think, placed in my life when I needed it. So I was feeling spiritually filled, which gave me the energy to keep working until 11 pm on Saturday night to finish it up. (FYI-my food all day Saturday was healthy and on plan.)

Sunday's lesson went very well. It lasted about 35 minutes, and we had 25 minutes of lively and significant conversation. I received many compliments on the lesson.

If you know me, you know what's coming...... Sunday afternoon, I blew it.

We went out to lunch after church, and I had a salad with chicken and fruit, dressing on the side. There was a lot of fruit, and I'd have been fine if I'd only eaten half and taken the rest home. I hadn't eaten my usual big breakfast Sunday, because I got up late and was a tad nervous, and just wasn't that hungry. At lunch, then, I was starving, and I ate and ate and ate until that salad was gone. I ate 3 or 4 French fries off Sophie's plate.

I knew I was in trouble, yet I did nothing to stop it.

We got home, and I made a No Pudge Brownie, a single serving in the microwave. The first ingredient is pure cane sugar--how they get away with "No Pudge" is beyond me. A remnant of the "fat will make you fat, but sugar is FINE!" sales pitch, I guess. I used 1/2 cup mix, 1/4 cup LF yogurt, nuked it, and ate it up.

At half way finished, I was stuffed and thought about stopping, but played the food game and told myself "it's just a carb UP day, like the old 'Crack the Fat Loss Code' days. This will tell your body you're not on a diet, and you'll lose MORE weight. Yeah, that's what will happen. You'll have this one brownie, and that's all, and it will be fine."

I spent the next 3 hours in the recliner, in a food coma.   I woke up feeling grouchy and bloated. When I woke up the kids were in the family room watching TV. They wanted ice cream; I was craving sugar, so as I dished up theirs, I ate a serving for myself right off the ice cream scoop. Like a robot. Didn't even think it through, just ate it.

And it wasn't enough.

I knew, then, that when more is never going to be enough, it was time to get a hold of myself. I had to make myself stop. I went in the bathroom, looked in the mirror, and gave myself a good talking to. I looked at my backside, and reminded myself that (a) the back fat rolls are nearly gone--and that didn't happen because I ate sugar nonstop, and (b) the saddle bags are never going to go away unless I stop this NOW.

I had been planning to organize my closet Saturday before the Sunday school lesson popped up, so I decided that would be a good way to redirect my energy. I have a small closet--the traditional bi-fold doors type that are found in most homes built in the early 1980s. I had cleaned out the clothes that didn't fit a month or two ago; now it was time to clean up the floor of mounds of purses and bags and books and shoes, and the two shelves of shoes and clothes and purses. I filled three big trash bags with stuff for Goodwill, and filled a regular trashbag with stuff to throw away.

It took me about an hour and a half to two hours, I guess, to get it all done and to take all the discarded stuff away where it belonged. I dropped off at Goodwill this morning.

I could still feel the sugar in my body all night. I was cranky with the kids. I still wanted sugar, but ate a bowl of LF yogurt and fruit around 9 pm, to try to get some semblance of "healthy normal" going again. I fell asleep okay but was wakened at 2 am by my husband who couldn't sleep and had the TV on, which woke me up (after his CFP exam is over next week, we are setting new ground rules about his night-time TV watching) and I couldn't get back to sleep.

I'd wanted to run this morning, but couldn't wake up. Instead, I woke around 6:45 am and was grouchy as hell. And not hungry. We were out of milk, so I drove to Walgreens and got a gallon. I got home and was still not hungry, but was still angry.

It was the sugar from Sunday afternoon. I could feel the white poison making me crazy. I calmed myself down by busying myself with making my usual morning latte, and by then Luke was up. I chilled out on the couch, but didn't get ready for work. I just couldn't make myself do it. I took the kids to daycare/daycamp around 8:30, then came back home and finally made an on-plan breakfast at 9:30. I got ready for work, and got lunch together, and headed to the office.

I am not feeling as sugar crazed now, after a solid (although late) breakfast and a healthy snack. I was not hungry for a full lunch since I ate breakfast so late, so I had my cottage cheese/fruit/walnut snack instead. It should hold me until an early dinner.

Yesterday afternoon, I truly had no idea that my "this is just a carb up day" food game was actually a bad case of The Afters. This morning, as I was getting ready and trying to figure out what the hell happened, it finally dawned on me what had been going on.

The unexpected work. The hours I had planned on doing anything but planning a Sunday school lesson. The time away from the kids. The lack of exercise. The energy of being in front of a group of people for an hour. The attention and compliments on my presentation abilities. The realization that my size 16 straight black skirt was quite loose and my size L black & white top didn't have back fat rolls showing through, but I still didn't feel "good enough" because nobody complimented me on how I looked (I know, I know; it's why I'm in therapy).

It all added up to more than I am still capable of dealing with, without food.

At least it only took me a day to realize what was going on.

And it only took me about 6 hours to realize that I've been feeling better and more even and had more energy the past two weeks not because of the medication I've been taking or because of a smattering of exercise. It's because I HAVE NOT BEEN EATING REFINED SUGAR. Period. End of story.

For me, sugar is the devil, and it turns me into a screaming, irritable harpy.  For me, if I want to live my life well, I must eat clean, balanced food. For me, if I want to be awake for my life, I cannot play food games and pretend like "just this once" is okay.

I hope I don't have to keep learning this lesson over and over. I don't want to have another Sunday afternoon like yesterday's "lost hours" again. I felt yucky and miserable, and I will never get that day back again. That's a lesson I don't want to keep repeating. My days are already speeding past me too quickly. I don't want to lose them anymore to sugar.

Weight update - 175.8

2011-07-08T12:12:00.000-05:00

that's all. just the weight today. still on plan. still feeling much better.

have a great weekend!

Morning Run / No Weigh-in Today

2011-07-07T11:17:00.000-05:00

I haven't run since Sunday. If I don't do it in the morning, it just ain't gettin' done. Jeez. Can't a mom carve out 45 minutes to herself after 7 am?! Not this week, not this mom.

This morning I was up at 5:30 am, out the door at 6:00. I did 3.15 miles in 41:38. Avg pace 13:17 min/mile. The first mile I walked for almost 6 minutes to warm up; my second mile was in the 12:30 range. I was shooting for another negative split on mile 3, and I was close, but it was 12:42. Oh well. I am still happy with the workout, especially considering the air was like pea soup.

My pace a few weeks ago was in the 14 min/mile range. I am getting faster and stronger.

I ate well yesterday, stayed at 1360 calories, and had no binging issues and no cravings. I thought all afternoon about what I would do for the "afters." Turns out, just thinking it through (at least yesterday) and realizing it was an issue really helped. I kept busy with household chores, got the kids in bed at 9, and then got in bed at 9:30 myself. I was asleep sometime after 10 pm, and slept all night.

I didn't weigh this morning because I didn't want the number on the scale to bring me down if it wasn't what I wanted to see. I also don't want to pin my happiness on "oh look! I'm down a pound." I need to weigh regularly for the feedback to know if what I'm doing is working; I do not need the scale to determine my self worth.

I am not yet disconnected enough from the scale for it to not have that power over me. Maybe someday, but not yet.

PMS cravings (177.2)

2011-07-06T11:11:00.000-05:00

AHHHH, HORMONES! I am being assaulted. Yesterday I had horrible PMS; it actually started on Monday night. I had to take a xanax just to go to the fireworks with my husband and kids. I was so stretched to the limit--edgy, grouchy, tired, bitchy--that I knew if I didn't find a way to chill out, I was going to ruin everyone's time.

I didn't have time to workout; a run would have been the ideal thing to do to burn off the offensive hormones. So instead, I chose better living through chemicals, and popped a pill.

For this, I am not proud, but I am thankful it is an option. Especially since it's preferable to drowning myself in ice cream and cookies. The sugar would have eased the PMS cravings, but it also would have made me sleepy and sluggish and headachy and bloated. And of course, it would have blown up my clean eating plan.

Yesterday was a hard day. I was sad, depressed, sluggish, unfocused. I got to work late. We had been up late on Monday because of the fireworks, so the kids were tired too and not feeling their best, either. My husband was in a mood, too. I got through the day, ate well, ate a good dinner, had my yogurt and fruit for dessert, and thought I'd be okay.

Then the chocolate thoughts hit. I wanted chocolate desperately. I took my night time meds, and camped out in bed with Luke while he watched a movie. I fell asleep. Mark came in at 9 pm and said, "are we letting the kids stay up late?" This is how it is at my house--if I don't put the kids to bed, they don't get to bed. My husband defers almost all kid-related (and house related) issues to me. It's not that he's not helpful (well, he isn't helpful right now because his CFP exam is in less than 3 weeks); he just doesn't take the lead on anything.

Even so, it makes me mad when he does that to me. It's his passive-aggressive way of saying, why are the kids still awake at 9 pm and why are you asleep? It makes me mad because he doesn't do what he clearly could do--help me out, and tell the kids it's 8:30 and time for bed. I am not the bedtime decision maker...the clock is. But it is still left to me.

The PMS, the meds making me sleepy, my resentment building at my husband, my tired kids not wanting to quit their movies--it all just piled up. And I folded.

After the kids were down, I went to the kitchen, got out the frozen lite cool whip, and ate half the container. I sat on the couch, knowing what I was doing, and did it anyway.

I put the container away, feeling a little sick, and watched some TV. I fell asleep sitting up on the couch, with my feet on the coffee table. I woke up about an hour later with both legs asleep--completely numb. You know how badly that hurts as they are waking up? It almost made me cry. I was mad at myself already. Of course I just walked to the freezer and finished off the cool whip, standing at the kitchen counter.

I went to bed feeling angry and depressed. I feel asleep quickly, thank goodness. I woke up at 4 am needing to pee, with a raging headache. It was the cool whip, obviously. I took 3 advil and went back to sleep.

I was sluggish this morning, and weepy. I didn't feel hungry for breakfast at all, which did not feel normal. Eating an extra 500 calories after 9 pm makes breakfast pretty unappealing.

I have the choice to wallow in my mistake. Or I can learn from it. I know that The After's are a hard place to be, as far as avoiding comfort foods. I had a lot of After's yesterday. And hormones----eegads, I don't even know how to begin to combat them properly. I know acupuncture helps, but I gave my appointment to Mark for his back last week, so I don't have that assistance right now. And I know exercise helps, but this morning's hoped-for run didn't happen because I was just too tired.

I obviously can come up with all kinds of excuses on how NOT to take care of myself. I need to come up with some solutions.

Vickie wrote this post today. It was helpful to me. I included this in my comment to her:
This post helps me realize I am not going to be perfect just because I've made up my mind to eat this way. It's still a process. I am not making excuses; I am allowing that if I slip, I don't have to wallow. I can learn from it, figure out a better way to cope next time, and move forward.

Supplements (177.4)

2011-07-05T12:47:00.002-05:00

First, the one pound gain sucks. I think it may have been the extra nuts I ate yesterday, or it could be my PMS hormones working their lovely magic. We went to see X-Men: First Class yesterday afternoon*. I took a bag of nuts we had just bought at The Fresh Market as my snack, so I wouldn't be tempted by milk duds and popcorn. I didn't measure, I just ate a couple handsful (or maybe, three). It was more than I needed, and I snacked out of habit.

I didn't have too much food yesterday other than the nuts, and my "carb" intake was low. I didn't eat any oatmeal in the morning (we were out), and I didn't eat anything else in the starch category all day. I didn't intend to not eat them; I just ran out of food, didn't go to the store until right before the movie, and then for dinner I didn't have time to eat anything but a burger (no bun) and broccoli before we left for fireworks.

Anyway.... it's just a pound. Who knows what it means, if anything, other than it ticked me off. My waist is getting visibly (to me) smaller and my collar bones are peaking out more. As of yesterday's weight I had lost 10 pounds from my highest weight in April.

So, the topic of today's blog: supplements. As I was divvying out my vitamins this morning into my Old People XL Pill Boxes (I have two), I thought I'd write about what I take every day.

Morning:
Calcium--600 mg
Fish Oil--3 capsules (increased from 1, two weeks ago)
Multi Vitamin
Magnesium
Vitamin B Complex
Chromium (don't always take this; added it this morning)
Osteo Biflex (glucosamine for joints)
Rx med (lamotrigine, currently titrating up slowly)

Evening:
Calcium--600 mg
Fish Oil--3 capsules (increased from 1, two weeks ago)
Osteo Biflex (glucosamine for joints)
.25 mg xanax (for sleep)
5 mg melatonin (for sleep)

It's a lot to swallow. In the mornings I usually take them in stages, after breakfast, as I'm getting ready. I drink 1/2 liter water to get it all down.

The calcium I may consider modifying, since I'm eating a lot more in my food now (although I don't know what the mg's are in 1 cup yogurt; will have to research). I started taking that dosage on the suggestion of my psychiatrist 2 years ago, to help combat seasonal affective disorder.

I increased the fish oil based on research I read about how it can alleviate depression. Magnesium & Vit B are supplements to my multivitamin, on suggestion from the website where I buy my vitamins (vitacost.com).

Chromium is to help process carbs; I'm intending to eat more healthy carbs than I have been the past week, so adding this in for a while to see what happens.

Osteo Biflex I get at Walmart or Sam's; it makes a huge difference with my knees. I can tell within two or three days if I run out and don't take it; my knees hurt and crack a LOT when I'm not taking it.

I have been been wishy washy in the past with supplements, but I guess in 2007 when I started losing weight, and definitely in 2009 when I started seeing the psychiatrist and she put me on calcium, I have taken supplements like they are medicine.

Because they ARE medicine.

If I ate a perfectly balanced diet all the time, and if the earth where the food was grown is properly full of minerals (which it is probably not, from what I've randomly read in the past), and if the foods I eat don't lose too many vitamins in the cooking process, then I guess I wouldn't need all this stuff. I'm guessing my food will never be ideal to what I need in my body. At least, that's my opinion.

Honestly, if it weren't for the "mental health" aspect of all these pills, I doubt that I would be as focused on them as I am. Most supplements are to prevent future bad things from happening--take calcium so you aren't stooped over at age 80. Yeah, who thinks of that in your 30s? (I know I'm 41...but I guess I AM thinking of that now that I'm in middle age, but I wasn't thinking of it 2 years ago)

But if I can take calcium and fish oil to keep me stable, and if I can take vitamin B to keep from getting sick and so my nails and hair grow strong & shiny, and if I can take glucosamine so my knees don't crackle and pop, and if I can take melatonin so I sleep through the night instead of waking up at 2 am--those things are IMMEDIATE and therefore I am motivated to swallow eleven pills every morning and seven pills every night.

*We went with the kids; we are a big movie family. I don't let the kids watch R rated movies--of course--or blood/gore/evil-themed/sex-focused movies. Some PG-13 movies are OK, esp. the action ones like X-Men, Spiderman, Transformers, Chronicles of Narnia. Since the violence is "comic book" and there is no blood/gore, the biggest issue with PG-13 is the language, IMO. But, we talk about language and what's appropriate and what's not. Neither kiddo has ever had an issue with a potty mouth. Anyway, that's my rationalization & drawn out explanation of why my 10 and 5 1/2 year olds were at a PG-13 movie.

Stable (176.4)

2011-07-03T09:36:00.001-05:00

It's been one week since I started the new food plan. I do not feel deprived. I don't feel hungry unless I'm supposed to be hungry (meal time). I am not eating lo carb but I am not eating bread or anything else wheat/processed.

I ran Friday morning at 5:30 am--3.1 miles. I ran this morning at 6 am--4 miles. Total of 10.3 miles this week.

I tweaked my yogurt/fruit like Vickie suggested in comments on my last post. That helped last night! The extra 1/2 c yogurt helped. I also measured my fruit to keep it in line, and added 1/8 c walnuts.

I am still having berries and yogurt after dinner, esp. if I haven't had a snack during the day. Last night I had them at 7 pm and that was the last thing I ate all night. I didn't have cravings until around 10 pm, and they were habit/anxiety/tired cravings, not blood sugar cravings. I just went to bed and didn't eat anything (it helps immensely that we are out of golden Oreos and I am not planning to replace them. Sophie usu. has 2 in her lunch; she is better off without them, and so am I).

For dinner yesterday my husband wanted Mexican. Our local restaurant has the best salsa ever. I did not have him get me anything. He knew not to even ask. I got home after he did (we had been at the pool with the kids) so I didn't have to see him eat it.

I made my own Mexican. Black beans, small can corn, 1/2 cup restaurant salsa, all mixed together. This had 140 calories per serving (batch made 4 servings). I had a big bunch of spinach, put the bean/corn on top, and I added 7 crumbled organic blue corn chips (Target brand). These were an experiment. The ingredients were blue corn, canola oil, salt, lime juice. That's it. I used 1/2 serving. I knew that if I got cravings in an hour or so, it was likely the chips. I also ate 3 1/2 oz shredded chicken with 1 skinny cow wedge and 1 sliced carrot--my version of easy chicken salad; I got the idea from Roni's greenlitebites.com--as my protein and fat to balance the carbs in the salad. It worked. Tasted amazing. I had Mexican, felt satisfied, stayed on plan (although I know it was strictly OP), and didn't have after cravings. I could have eaten more, but I stopped and had fruit and yogurt about 30 minutes later instead.

I am amazed how quickly I have become hungry for breakfast. Guess that happens when you aren't eating junk food before bed. I am also making cold lattes at home with my espresso maker; I have one shot and 1/2 c milk; I add 1 T of lite chocolate syrup for sweetness. I make two at a time, drink one, and save the other half for the next morning. It's 70 calories a serving. The RedBull I was drinking was loads of sugar and 135 calories; the Illy canned lattes were 110 calories with loads of sugar. So this homemade coffee is much improved, and hits the spot.

So that's the progress so far. I am thrilled that I am washing a lot of measuring cups and workout clothes. They are a big measure of whether I've had a "good" week.
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Friday update (177.2)

2011-07-01T20:41:00.001-05:00

Weight is still slowly going down. Yesterday was 177.4.

I am doing great with breakfast. I am eating at meal time--and having one snack of lf yogurt or cottage cheese with 1/4 c nuts (which, so far, isn't enough to trigger a nut headache).

I have had a couple of minor slips--one oreo cookie at midnight (fell asleep in family room, went to cupboard to get a cookie like a zombie, stopped myself at ONE, then practically ran to bed) and a nutrigrain bar last night around 10 pm. That one was because I had too much fruit after dinner.

I didn't measure--just cut up a slice of pineapple and about 5 strawberries and a bit of blueberries. I added 1/2 c lf yogurt and 4 walnuts. I knew it was too big a bowl, but I ate it anyway. I "wanted" something; I rationalized it was "ok" because it was fruit.

It bit me in the butt. And I knew what it was because Vickie has written about being careful with fruit. I didn't "know" what she meant, though, till I went through it myself. About 90 minutes later I was craving carbs. 30 minutes later I ate the cereal bar. I wanted more, but went to bed. I recognized what was going on, and stopped it.

So, lightening up on the evening fruit from here out.
I cannot get all the veggies in at lunch and dinner. It's either a cooked or a raw veggie, not both. I haven't gotten my routine together "enough" this week. But I'm getting there. I'm sure the fruit/snack cravings will go away if I eat the veggies I need to.

I woke up this morning at 5:20 and ran/walked 3.1 miles in 43 minutes. Slow, but moving my bod! I went by myself, no friend to meet to get me out of bed. Just me. It was great.

I also used the gas outdoor grill Tuesday for the first time. Grilling is my husbands thing. I tell myself I'm not a good cook. The grill intimidates me. But after my 1st trail run, I felt like I could do anything--so I lit the grill went I got home, got online and read "how to grill," asked Mark (who got home while I was prepping the sirloin and turkey burgers) for advice, and I grilled up some protein--all by myself. I did it again last night. I don't want to take over the grilling work--but when Mark can't, at least now I CAN.

Very full weekend but not too many plans. Just lots to do. We will go downtown to see fireworks on the river Monday night if the weather holds. It's one of our favorite family traditions. July 4th is here--might as well start planning for the holidays. The rest of the year will fly by.
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It's working--177.6

2011-06-29T07:04:00.001-05:00

Yesterday's weight was 180.4. I didn't post it because I was getting very frustrated but didn't want to talk about how the scale was tormenting me. I mean, it didn't move for days, even though my food had been clean. My head knows it can take a while for my body to respond to food changes, but my emotions and habits were ticked and perplexed. So I just kept at it and knew it would eventually show a loss.

Today--2.8 pounds down. Woot!

My body rarely loses weight mid-cycle. The same hormones that made me uptight and angry and crazy yesterday keeps the fat on my body too. I've tracked my weight for years in excel (lost the spreadsheet from my original weight loss when my hard drive died, but I started a new one this year), so I know this pattern exists. It still takes a lot of mental strength to realize this fact when I'm in the grips of the same hormones that control so much of me already. When they control the scale, despite my best efforts, it can be disheartening.

At any rate, hopefully the hormones are done with me for a couple weeks. Hopefully the clean, balanced food will keep my body in fat burning mode. Hopefully I can stay true to this food plan. I haven't felt food cravings (much) and I haven't gone through those horrible carb or caffeine reactions, where my body is tired and sluggish after food I eat/drink to try to get some energy. My energy has been stable, at least, even though my hormones were nuts. That's no small thing.

My oats are almost finished cooking, so I'm off to eat my big breakfast and start the day. Almost 3 pounds lighter, in body and spirit.
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1st Trail "Run"

2011-06-28T14:55:00.000-05:00

Last week I read Lynn's account of her bike trail story, and it made me want to hit a trail. I don't own a bike. The last time I road a bike was in the late 1990s, in Boulder, Colorado, with my husband. It was all down hill on pavement mostly, but I was still not confident or comfortable on it. Plus, it hurt my booty.

Anyway, I don't own a bike, but I have two feet and thought I could go trail running. There's a nature preserve 15 minutes away from us, and I knew they had hiking trails. I looked on the preserve's website this weekend, asked the kids if they wanted to go on a trail walk with me Saturday morning--they declined. (I will get them out there eventually.)

So this morning, when I woke up late and grouchy, and after I yelled at the kids one too many times--yeah, so not mother of the year today--after I dropped them both off at their respective day camps/care, I called Mark (my husband and boss) and told him I needed a few mental health hours. I knew as soon as I hung up that I was going to do my first ever trail run.

I go home, get ready, and drive to the preserve. I had left my map at home, so I stopped at the visitors' center and got a map and asked for some advice. The lady showed me the trails that should take me about an hour. They weren't more than 2 miles combined. I thought an hour sounded like too much time since I was going to mostly run the trails.

Did I mention this was my first trail running experience?

The first .6 miles is paved, then it splits into the wilderness--I had a choice to take the lake trail (.9 miles) or the back country trail (1.6 miles). The lake trail connects to the back country trail about .4 miles in, so I figured I'd start there and if I was feeling good I'd take a right and get on the back country trail instead of coming back around to where I started a mere half mile later.

I had run most of the .6 miles (which has a huge hill in it, and I had to walk some of that) and a fair bit of the first part of the lake trail. At one mile in, I felt awesome. It was beautiful--lots of green, not a human in sight. I decided, of course, to take the back country trail. I am runner--hear me roar. I thought it would be fun to go the less traveled path, not to mention more challenging.

I wanted to be worn out. I wanted the frustration and anger and hormones in my body and my mind to be wrung out like a wet towel.

Man, did I ever get what I wanted.

The lake trail had been rather tame. The guide said there were gentle slopes. I had told her this was my first time at their trail; she obviously listened to that and ignored my 2008 half-marathon hat (which I wear b/c it has a zipper where I can store my car key fob) and my running skirt and my running watch, and she suggested the tamer route.

As I headed onto the back country trail, I knew why she'd suggested the other.

Holy crap. I have never climbed so many hills in my life. They were steep, and they were muddy. Around two miles, I didn't know if I could finish. I was worn out, just liked I'd hoped for. But I was still more than a mile away from the trail head and the blessed relief of pavement. No other choice but to keep moving, so I kept at it.

After the first mile, the hills were relentless. There were only a few times that it was flat enough to run, for like, 30 seconds at a time. The rest of the hike was a HIKE. No running involved. Only climbing up and tippy-toeing down.

I got past the wall of being worn out, and just plugged along, checking the map, checking Garmin, to see how much further I had to go. When I finally saw the steps down to the pavement, I almost shouted for joy. I found it in me to run about .25 miles of the last .6. And I realized that I had, in a small way, accomplished what Vickie talked about on her zip-line post-- I was "beyond normal."

It felt amazing.

Here are my times, which are interesting to note:
Whereas the first mile was pretty decent on time for trail running--13:48, which is awesome considering my flat pavement time last week was 13:20--my second mile took 20 minutes. My third mile took almost 22 minutes; the third mile I spent about .25 of it running, so the bits in the woods were s-l-o-w. Garmin had a hard time keeping up with me a few times. The trees were pretty thick, and I moved slooowly through some steeeep inclines often, and Garmin went into "pause" mode enough (it stopped recording movement, even though I was still moving) that it threw off my total distance by about a tenth of a mile (as compared to what the map said I covered).

I am going to go back and do the "easy" trails to see if they are something my kids could do. Frankly, I think the hills on the pavement would have them complaining like mad. So I may keep this one to myself for a while and do another nature trail with them that's closer to home, and not hilly. I can save the big trails for when they are older.

I'd like to make trail running a regular part of my schedule, maybe every two weeks. I am anti "drive to go running" when I can help it. I don't like spending 30 minutes in the car when I could have spent 30 minutes on my feet. Plus, my shoes are muddy as heck. It's going to be fun cleaning them up for my next pavement run. Which, I guess, is going to feel like a piece of cake compared to today. Sweet.

What's become apparent (180.4)

2011-06-27T14:40:00.000-05:00

I wrote in the comments on Vickie 's post today...

It is becoming more and more apparent to me that
1) [sustained, permanent] weight loss requires the near to complete elimiation of processed foods,
2) I have never eliminated processed foods from my diet *enough*,
3) I have no idea what my body can handle as far as carbohydrate consumption, and lose weight [consistently],
4) I am slowly, slowly training my HEAD to realize that the way I have been eating the past two days cannot be temporary, and I need to keep learning and working on the food combinations that will work for me,
5) it may take a while before I figure out what those combinations ARE that will allow me lose weight, and
6) There is no diet... there is do, or do not.

I've read it [on Vickie's blog], and I've heard it echoed on Lynn's blog--the line between weight loss and maintenance is razor thin. Half a baked potato, as Frances [Kuffel] told us in her book.

It can be a hard thing to give up all the foods we love. I have felt deprived several times this past weekend, thinking about what I "can't have" anymore. Until I read [Vickie's] story about the zip line. And then I think, are you kidding me? Why would anyone think food is better than flying?

Food (180.4)

2011-06-26T18:19:00.000-05:00

Gasp. I've run two days in a row and I started a new food plan yesterday (and did very well on it). And I didn't lose 5 pounds. I am shocked.
I kid. I know it doesn't work like that. Part of me did have my fingers crossed for a pound or two since, you know, I didn't eat sugary junk yesterday. But, alas, my body does what it does and the scale doesn't always equal success on day two.

(Actually, when I read the books "Crack/Conquer the Fat Loss Code," the author talks about how the body is on a three day food cycle. I don't remember the science, and don't have time to look it up right now, but I remember her talking about why she planned food days the way she did, and it had to do with how the body stores food for energy.)

At any rate, I am not expecting a miraculous weight loss overnight, even though I really did think I might weigh in the 178 range this morning. It's just the same old thinking attaching itself to me, I suspect. But I am recognizing it for what it is--potential sabotage. I am not going to let the lack of one day's movement in the scale derail me that easily.

Yesterday I had breakfast at 10 am. By 2:30 I was hungry. I had no food cravings for 4 1/2 hours. I didn't have cravings at 2:30; I was hungry. Not to say I didn't think about food. I DID. All day.  I kept thinking "what in the heck do I eat for a starch if I can't have wheat or any kind of flour?"

For my late lunch, I had rice as my starch. It was the boil in the bag whole wheat kind, but it didn't taste very good. The texture was off. How do you mess up boil in the bag? I think I overcooked it. Plus, I think I need long grain wild rice or the kind that takes 30 minutes to cook instead of 10. Texture is a big thing for me.

At 6:00 pm I went out for a run. I was starting to get hungry, but it wasn't bad. At around mile 2 I was feeling puny, like I hadn't fueled myself enough. Then I channeled my inner Jillian and said "Are you kidding me? You are carrying around your fuel on your behind. Get it moving and keep it moving." It worked.  I bettered my 5k time from the day before by 30 seconds, and I ended up going 3.4 miles.

At 7:00 I left for the grocery store. The exercise suppressed my appetite. I shopped at Target and The Fresh Market (we just got one a couple weeks ago; expensive, but the sales on produce are actually pretty good). I bought tons of veggies and fruits.

When I got home it was 8:30. By the time I had the fridge cleaned out and everything put away, it was almost 9:30. Then bedtime for the kids. Then it was almost 10. No time to eat a full meal. I had a measured cup of fresh raspberries and 1/2 c. lowfat organic cottage cheese. I was full and happy and no cravings.

Woohoo for day 1!

My big issues now are to figure out how to get protein and starch into my diet--and how to make them enjoyable. You know, without sugar and fat and salt, these things are just not a turn on. I know they can be. I just have to figure out how to get them there.

I have a couple of recipes from my low carb days that work well--protein and veggies. I can do breakfast easily and tastily. It's lunch and dinner that are going to throw me. I don't have time to spend an hour every night making dinner; heck, I don't have 30 minutes.

I need a plan so I don't fall on my face on day 3.

Cooking and preparing fresh food is work. It's work until you've figured out how to make it NOT (so much) work. And right now, it's work.

I have enough work in my life--the job, the house, the kids, the dog, the never-ending piles of laundry. No wonder it's so easy to throw up your hands and give up.

But I know it's possible for a mere mortal to cook real food on a daily basis (although, truly, aren't Moms expected to be more than mere mortals?). So I will pursue and learn and figure out how to do this.

I did pull Vickie's link on the foods she eats so I know what to call a starch. I mean, I "know" what to call a starch, but the one page I printed from Kay Sheppard's plan doesn't elaborate much on what she classifies as a vegetable. Potatoes and corn and peas are starches, but she doesn't list them as such. To be fair, I've barely perused her site, so it may be there somewhere, just not on the page that I printed.

I also see that Vickie has a list of recipes on her side bar. I'll be going there next.

I can't do this whole food transformation in a day, or a week, or even a month. But I can get started.   Which is what I finally feel like I'm doing.

Eating plan (180.2)

2011-06-25T12:09:00.000-05:00

So I am starting a new eating plan today. After reading about Kay Sheppard's plan several times recently, on Vickie's and subsequently on Jane's blogs, I figure it's time.

I didn't start off right--I had a cold can of Illy latte coffee, which has caffeine and sugar, but I hadn't officially decided this morning whether I was going to start or not.

When I was ready for breakfast, which was late today because I slept in until 8:30, then had to pick Luke up from a sleepover at his friend Jack's house at 9 a.m. (his first sleepover at a friend's house--it was Jack's 6th birthday... Luke did great and the boys had a blast), I looked at the food plan at 9:45 and thought, that's a lot of food.

Protein
Milk
Starch
Fruit

My breakfasts are usually two of those--frozen blueberries, steal cut oats with honey and pecans, or yogurt, frozen berries, and granola. Never all four. But I figured there's a reason for all the food, so this is what I ate this morning.

1 cup steal cut oats w/ 1/2 c frozen berries
1/2 cup egg beaters
1 cup yogurt with 1/2 c frozen blueberries

That is a lot of food. I ate the egg beaters and yogurt while the oats cooked; to make the eggs taste better, I put some yogurt on the plate with them. I love that flavor combination. When we do breakfast at Bob Evans, I usually get the yogurt & fruit crepe with a side of egg lites. This was the same thing, only without the added sugar and starch.

I was already feeling kind of full after that. A cup of lowfat yogurt is a lot! But I measured out 1 cup of oats and poured them on the berries, and sat at the counter and got to eating. By the time I was done I was full, but not stuffed and not uncomfortable. Which surprised me. I thought for sure this would be too much food.

It was, however, too much time. It took me almost 30 minutes to eat! I never spend that much time sitting down and eating, at least by myself at home. I did read a book--it was monotonous to keep eating and eating, esp when the food was a bit bland without the added honey and nuts in the oats, or the granola in the yogurt. I know it will take a while for my taste buds to adjust.

But again, I know there's a reason for this. It's two hours later and I'm not even remotely interested in eating anything else.

I know this will not be a quick fix and there will be fits and starts. It's going to be hard to give up caffeine (and I don't plan to go cold turkey). But, I figure if I can follow the plan as best I can, like eating the categories of foods together at each meal time, then it is a start.

I am tired of feeling sick and tired after I eat. I'm tired of waking up bloated from the snacks before bed (which is what happened this morning). I'm tired of drinking a second or third can of something caffeinated (with sugar), and feeling more tired than I was before I drank it.

I want to feel energized and alive. The way I've been living isn't getting me there.

I went out and ran last night. The weather was gorgeous all day...the nicest day we've had all year. It literally made me sick to my stomach that I had to sit in the office all day yesterday, looking out my window at the clear blue skies and the swaying trees. I wanted to BE part of that. Instead I was stuck, and not a happy camper.

I didn't leave the house for my run until 7:30 pm, and it had gotten more humid but there was still a nice breeze and the sun was setting. I ran/walked 3.1 miles in about 42 minutes. Not fast, but not horrible considering my weight and my lack of consistent exercise. Mentally I felt better after my run than I had all day.

I kept asking myself why I'm not making this a daily requirement, like taking medicine. It is, after all, as essential to my mental health as the pills and vitamins I take each day.

I'm planning on starting morning runs in earnest. I have liked the two I've done with my friend Dedra. I don't have VBS anymore, and there's no reason I can't get up at 5 or 5:30 am and go out for an hour a few days a week.

The only thing holding me back are old habits.

It's high time to forge new ones.

Update - VBS + Not Eating for Comfort (179.2)

2011-06-22T10:47:00.000-05:00

Just felt like writing a quick update.

VBS is going well. I have nine kids ages 2, 3, & (young) 4, and have two parent helpers every night so it's not as bad as it sounds.

I love this age group--they are little sponges. Their love is quickly & easily shared. All you need to earn the love and trust of a 3 year old is a couple of hours of care and smiles and attention, and they are yours for life. It's been a huge blessing to work with them this past year.

VBS is two hours long. After 15 minutes of snack and settling in, our class joins the other classes in the sanctuary for music and the nightly skit, which is 35 minutes long. It's a miracle my class can stay put (they don't sit still, but they stay in the pew) that long. We give them 20 minutes or so to run and play (outside if it's not wet, which it has been all but one night) and work out their wiggles.  Then we do a simple craft, then play some more, then we sit down on the floor and I teach a lesson (about 5 minutes long). Then we gather in a circle and hold hands and I say a short prayer; I always ask for blessings or give thanks for each of them by name. I think it makes them feel special to have an adult pray for them out loud, using their names. I hope so, anyway. I stamp their hands or arms at the end of the prayer.   Then they play or watch Veggie Tales until it's time to go.

So, for the most part, it is an easy teaching gig. But I am not inherently extroverted. It takes a lot of energy for me to be extroverted. And teaching is about as extroverted as you can get (with, perhaps, the exception of being a politician).  I am continually talking with them and helping them resolve conflicts or complimenting them on something they did right, or helping them say "I'm sorry" when they do something wrong.

When it's one hour on a Sunday morning, it's not a big deal. When it's five nights in a row of two+ hours a night, it's exhausting. I still love it and wouldn't trade it for the world. But it takes a lot of energy.

So I've been really careful this week about not feeding my face with comfort food, especially at night. More often than not, when I want to eat when I'm not hungry, I've stopped and asked what do I really NEED. Rest is the answer. Rest and sleep and quiet time. Instead of eating junk food, I've been going to bed as soon as the kids are down for the night.

It's obviously showing on the scale. I've lost almost 8 pounds since mid April, which isn't a lot but it's an average of a pound a week. I'm OK with a pound a week, especially since I was on vacation for 10 days during that time frame. I've stopped the gain, and I'm working my way slowly back down. If I kick up the exercise (as I plan to) and continue eating less processed and more whole foods (as I'm doing), then I will be a happy camper.

Vickie shared a link from Jane yesterday that fits perfectly with this issue of finding comfort through food. Jane talks about being sick and not eating to feel better. I'm not sick right now, but I am stretched beyond my limits, which is definitely an excuse to eat to "feel better." I found both posts very helpful yesterday.

Jill also shared a post I found helpful. It's a big reason I got up this morning at 4:50 am and met my friend Dedra for a four mile walk.  Yes, I'm really super tired right now. But this morning was lovely. It was no big deal to get out of bed and get moving, because I'd promised a friend I would meet her to workout.

I don't know why I can't do that FOR MYSELF. What I'm (slowly) figuring out is that it's not a matter of CAN'T. It's WON'T. Making excuses and putting the blame on "life getting in the way" is getting old.

Maybe it's therapy, maybe it's the new med (doubt it, only been on it a few days), maybe it's acupuncture, maybe it's paying attention to blogs again, maybe it's realizing how miserable I was this time last year and telling myself I don't have to be miserable anymore. Or maybe I'm just ready. Probably it's all of the above. I feel like I'm ready to drop the WON'T's and CAN'T's and I'LL TRY's. Ready to move on to the I WILL and I CAN.

Ready to be my own best friend.

Busy week

2011-06-20T02:34:00.001-05:00

I likely won't be posting much this week. VBS started Sunday night, and I am teaching the 2-3 year olds from 6-8 pm each night thru Thursday (had 8 kids but also had 2 other adults and 1 teen helping). 8 pm is too late, but ending earlier wouldn't allow enough time for the older kids, and starting earlier is too difficult to get working families there.

It's a fun week, but is exhausting. I've been part of VBS for 15 years at our church. I took a few years off after Luke was born, but am back at it now. This is a week that sticks with kids their whole lives, so for me it's worth the time and craziness. Of course by Wednesday I'll be DONE, but that's the norm and I just deal with it.

My days at work are going to be focused mostly on work this week too, because Mark has a week of online prep classes for his CFP exam next month, so I will likely be "quiet" in blog land this week. Maybe it will be easier than I anticipate and I'll not be so swamped, so we'll see.

I do hope I make it without too much drama. I get acupuncture again Wednesday. No negative side effects from new meds, either.

It was a busy, full weekend and a nice Father's day.

The summer is flying by.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Taking care of Me day (179.0)

2011-06-17T14:50:00.001-05:00

I had my first acupuncture appointment in 4 weeks today. I mentioned in an earlier post this week that I think it must have been making a difference. The 4 weeks off were probably a good test to confirm that yes, it is helping to keep my moods stable and my energy up.

The treatment I get is called GAM, which stands for Great American Malady. My doctor studied under the acupuncturist who "created" (whatever that entails) medical acupuncture. That guy created the GAM treatment. It treats stress, anxiety, and exhaustion.  Think that's an accurate description of the American malady?

Speaking of which... I noticed today during the treatment* that when my mind wandered to future stuff I need to do, or wandered to stuff I'm worried about, I didn't feel it working. When I brought myself back to the present, I could feel the needles and pulsating energy doing what they are supposed to do--bringing peacefulness to my mind and body.

I have left there more than once feeling completely high--or what *I* would call high, being that I've only tried pot once in my life and I hated it. It is more like a runner's high, only without the sweat and exertion. Or like the nose gas you used to get at the dentist's office. (Remember nose gas? They gave it to me when I was a kid and had to have fillings.  I had never heard of Pink Floyd at age 9, but I remember my hands feeling like giant balloons in Dr. Witgen's reclined dental chair. And it was goooood stuff.)

Today I got into the relaxed state when I kept my mind in the present, for a good 20 minutes. I left feeling more centered, less stressed.

I have my next appointment in 20 minutes with the nurse practitioner who prescribes meds at my therapists office. I had totally forgotten--she's not a psychiatrist, she's a nurse practitioner. I am going to talk with her about the OCD, the mood swings that happen hour by hour some days, the intrusive thoughts, and not wanting to try yet another SSRI. I also am having trouble regulating my sleep, so we'll talk about that, too. I'm not going to mention the bipolar spectrum stuff unless it makes sense to go there, or if she brings it up.

If she doesn't help me, my acupuncture doctor is a psychiatrist, who is in practice with his dad. So, all is not lost if my appointment this afternoon is fruitless.

Busy weekend. VBS starts Sunday night, runs through Thursday. I am teaching the 2-3 year olds. I will have help in the class room, but all the prep is on me. Sophie is going to help me decorate and come up with craft ideas.

I didn't run this morning. I was awake at 1:30 am and couldn't get back to sleep until 5 am. Not going running on less than 4 hours of sleep, no thank you.

Vickie, my mom picked up Luke at day care today and took him to her house from there (Sophie is not going this weekend), so no scale conversation today.   I like it being out of my bathroom, though. It's not staring me in the face every time I am in there (which is a lot). I am still weighing myself regularly, as noted in my posts, so it being in Mark's bathroom (which is attached to our bedroom) is no biggie.

*Acupuncture consists of this--The room is like one you'd find in a massage place/spa. He plays peaceful yoga-style music. I strip to my undies, get under a sheet on my back. He puts a pillow under my knees, and I have one under my head. I like the eye pillow, so I am in complete darkness and don't watch the needles. He puts needles in my feet, ankles, 1/4 up calf, inside knee bend, wrists (arms are facing up), inside elbow bend, 1/4 way up arm, three across stomach. Then he attached electrical energy cords, turns it up until it's pulsing (I tell him when it's enough); if you've ever felt a tens machine, which manages pain through electrical stimulation, it's kind of like that. He also lights some kind of fire stick (eyes covered, don't know what it looks like) then heats every needle point around my body, twice in succession. Then he leaves, and I chill. I try to relax every muscle in my face and body. I try to focus on the present. I repeat a chant if I can't stay in the moment. It's what I use when I meditate, which is hardly ever but it happens when I need it. "Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy, on me,"--breathing in and out on the commas. The deep breathing really works for me, too.

Shame (180.4)

2011-06-16T13:46:00.002-05:00

I read Jen's post on shame a few days ago. It helped explain a lot about what's going on with me. It explains why I reacted so harshly to the guy who asked me if I knew where the sidewalk was, and why I got so upset by the instructor who asked if it was my first step class.

Shame is a topic I've not spent much time on, but I'm rife with it. It's poisoned me for decades. It's time I start cleansing myself of it.

Therapy will help with that process, of course. And Jen's post was a good supplement. I'm going to see if I can get the book she references on CD or audio file. I'd like to learn more.

I've had a couple of up and down days. My emotions are still going like a roller coaster. I started my period, so the hormonal PMS has lessened, but I'm still up one half of the day, down the next.

I haven't had acupuncture in almost a month. Friday I get to go back, and I wonder how much that has been helping me feel stable? Since it's been gone I have felt worse, so I think it may have been making a big difference.

I also started taking more of my Omega-3s. Studies have shown that Omega-3s can help ease depression. But you have to take enough of it to make an impact. So now I'm taking 6 capsules a day; I get them from Vitacost.com, and I know they are safe (sorry to any walmart lovers, but I won't take any supplements from there--I don't trust walmart with diddly squat, esp anything I put in my body). It can take months for it to help, but so what--I will still be here in months. Might as well get started now.

Tomorrow morning is my second morning run with my friend Dedra. I have to find a way to not let her sweep me away in gossip or in talking my ear off after we've finished (I stood there for 25 minutes after our run and listened... I don't have that kind of time to chat about other people's business). I'm not good at setting boundaries, especially with friends. Guess it's time to learn.

The night before (179.6)

2011-06-14T12:34:00.003-05:00

I sometimes listen to online sermons by John Ortberg from Menlo Park Presbyterian Church in California (the church has a podcast on iTunes or you can download sermons from the church's website). Rev. Ortberg wrote one of the best books on faith that I've ever read--Faith and Doubt--which I received a couple years ago from Debby, who graciously mailed it to me when I was going through a tough time.

Yesterday I listened to a sermon from last year, 6/14/2010. It's on daily prayer and living each moment with Christ.

Rev. Ortberg points out something I hadn't thought of before, although it's not new news to those of the Jewish faith. God's days start in the evenings.  Genesis 1:5 says "and there was evening and there was morning--the first day." *

With that idea in mind, I started TODAY last night at 9:00 p.m. I knew I wanted to get up and run this morning with my friend Dedra at 5:15 a.m. There was no way that was going to happen if I followed my usual behavior of staying up until 11 pm or later.

So as the kids were getting ready for bed, I took my sleep meds at 9 pm and got on my PJs. (I usually take my sleep meds at 10 or 10:30.) I got the kiddos settled and the dog's needs taken care of. I left the kitchen a bit messy and laundry unfinished, and I got in my bed at 9:30. I set my alarms on my phone and iPod Touch, read a few pages in my book, and before 10 pm I was asleep.

My phone alarm went off at 4:55 am. I got right up; no need for the two back up alarms on my iPod. I got my workout clothes out, found my running shoes, got dressed, grabbed a banana and water bottle and a Red Bull (I know, I know, it's crack and I can't give it up), and I was out the door to drive to Dedra's house at 5:10.

I was wide awake and not tired at all. The morning was beautiful--cool air, not humid, the sky already well lit from the rising sun.

Dedra and I walked and jogged for 48 minutes, 3.2 miles. She's a talker, which I'm not since I've always been a solitary runner, but we struck a nice balance.   We are about the same height and weight, so it wasn't difficult to keep up with each other's pace. She's been doing more walking and jogging than I have lately, so I determined when we stopped to walk. I did fairly well--.25 miles jogging at a time, at 11 - 12 min/mile (while jogging; our average was obviously slower than that).

We plan on getting together again on Friday morning. I'm under no delusion I'm suddenly "a morning person." But at least I learned a good lesson. If I start my day the night before, I can do a reasonable job of pretending to be one.

****
I talked a lot with Mark last night. I finally just gave him my post about last week's therapy session so he could read it. When he got home from work, I asked if he'd had a chance to read it yet. He came over and gave me a big hug, which made me cry.

I talked with him about how I need to get on new medication, but I'm concerned I won't be diagnosed properly because so few psychiatrists know about or recognize "bipolar spectrum disorder." If that's even what I have. I don't know. I just know I'm not "simply depressed" and I don't just have OCD.   I don't care WHAT it is or what I have. I just want to be treated with medication properly.

I found a website by a physician that talks about a lot of what my issues are; I have not had a manic episode, but I have several "soft bipolarity" symptoms from his list, including: *When I started Wellbutrin in 2008, I felt high for about 3 or 4 weeks. I remember thinking it was the best I'd ever felt, EVER. It didn't last, but I realize now that it was not a normal response. *I had severe post partum after having Sophie. *SSRI's lose their effectiveness for me after a couple of years. I've been on four different SSRI's; none of them worked 100% successfully. *Major depression episodes have been brief, but I've had quite a few of them and they started early in my 20s. *When I am depressed, my symptoms are "aytpical"--low energy, need lots of sleep, highly reactive to others' responses, appetite is increased (carbohydrate craving & night eating included). *My dad was never diagnosed with bipolar disorder (he was depressed, and started Prozac soon after it became available), but he certainly had episodes that could have been considered hypo-manic, so there could be an inherited element there.

I know enough from being on and off SSRI's since I was 26 years old and about how I feel currently, to know that I am not plain old vanilla depressed. From what I've read on the website, SSRI's (especially long-term use) can sometimes make bipolar & OCD worse.

I know the OCD is real; heck, I'm obsessing about whether or not someone will diagnose me correctly, and fixating on trying to diagnose myself because I don't trust that "they" will get it right. Today I'm trying to take a step back, say some prayers, and live like a person of faith should live--with faith, instead of fear and doubt.

*During the sermon, Ortberg instructs us on how to live life with Christ at many milestones during our day, like getting ready in the morning and eating breakfast and driving in the car and being at work. He starts with bedtime, and said that when your head hits the pillow, pray:

"Thank you that I'm alive today. I didn't have to be. Help me to let my burdens go. Help me to let go of my worries, unanswered questions, pressures, concerns. Remind me that the outcomes of my life are not meant for me to carry around on my shoulders. Help me to let go. Help me to receive the benefit of wisdom that Proverbs 3:24 promises: 'When you lie down, you will not be afraid; when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet.' For you are at my side, and you are with me."

The weekend (179.8)

2011-06-13T11:22:00.002-05:00

I spent much of the weekend in emotional turmoil. Other than my blog post, I didn't share my therapy revelations with anyone. There wasn't a good time to talk with my husband about it, and I'm not a phone person and don't have any friends who would be up on all this stuff anyway, so there was no one else to talk to.

I'd never talk with my mother or sister about all this.

Which is another part of my turmoil. I am angry at my mom right now, for things that happened 30 years ago. I know hanging onto the anger is wrong and unhealthy, and I will work through that. But it's raw right now. My mom's behavior and the way she speaks (very poor grammar, which is fingernails on a chalkboard to me) drives me crazy anyway; adding all of her failures (as I perceive them) from my childhood to the forefront of my mind makes my interactions with her painful. I want to withdraw and lash out, at the same time.

She was at my house Saturday morning to pick up the kids. (We had a client appointment at 9 am so she drove down that morning to stay with them.) She came in the bathroom as I was getting ready, did her usual thing--used the toilet, then weighed herself, then made a derogatory comment about the number on the scale, then looked at me and said "you're losing weight." I could have just screamed.

She weighs less than I do. I told her earlier this year that I am not okay with her talking about how fat she is in front of me; I weigh more than she does, so what does that say about how I look? She brushed it off, said I'm taller and younger than her, I carry my weight differently, have more muscle tone. Which is all true, but whatever. She made excuses and didn't acknowledge my feelings at all, and instead told me (for the umpteenth time) "You don't look that fat." I could have just screamed.

Before I left for work Saturday morning, I'd asked her to stay until I got home so I could see them both off, since they were spending the night with her. When I got home, I got the kids' packed and mostly just ignored mom. I hugged on the kids, picked up the house a bit (mom cleaned the kitchen when I got home, which was nice of her), and counted the minutes until she left. She'd ask a question, I'd give her a one sentence answer. I'm sure she knows something's wrong but she didn't press.

Sunday afternoon she brought the kids home and I was reading my Kindle when she got there. I kept reading. She had my niece and needed to take her home, so she didn't stay long. I know it's not fair to her, but I can't do anything about it yet.

I had made plans before we left for vacation to go with my friend Debra and her husband to our city's zoo for a beer and wine tasting (with Mark, not just me). I hate beer and can't drink wine (headaches), but I was trying to be nice to Debra and agreed we'd go, and also agreed to be the designated driver. I will not go into gory details, but it was not pleasant. I will never, ever do that again. Debra, who weighs 145 and was wearing a dress and looked gorgeous, got compliments from her husband, her brother (who we picked up on the way), and my husband. I was wearing a khaki skort and black tshirt; I received no compliments, no attention after the first couple of hours since they were all pretty intoxicated, and was completely left out of their jolly, drunken fun. I felt invisible, swept away without my consent, emotionally raw, and bitter.

The whole thing was so ironic, after my post on Friday. And stupid. And I suppose self-sabotage at it's finest. I had felt all day that it was a bad idea to go, but I'd already committed to it and wasn't going to be a bad friend and back out at the last minute. It added to my emotional turmoil, which put me into a "I gotta get numb" fest on Sunday. I spent the day reading historical fantasy (Patricia Briggs is my favorite right now). I ate ice cream and cookies. I didn't binge, but I didn't eat well. At least I didn't yell or take it out on my kids.

I have been hormonal and moody since Thursday. I still feel pretty bad today--raw and moody. I just want to cry and escape from my life. It's gorgeous weather today. I want to be living on the beach and not have any responsibilities. Instead of soaking up the sunshine and cooler air, I am at work rehashing my weekend and procrastinating doing my job.

I did decide to do a positive thing today. There are a few of my friends who are planning to run the Disney Princess Half Marathon in February; none of them have run races longer than 5k's yet. We have a group on Facebook that we share our runs/walks with, and support each other. I haven't posted anything for months. I am this close to just cancelling. But I thought instead of giving up, I'd ask my friend Dedra (not a typo--this is De"d"ra, different friend from Debra) if she'd start meeting me twice a week in the mornings to walk/run. She is in the Princess group, and like me has been considering not going. We are meeting tomorrow morning at 5:15, will go for an hour, then I'll be home by 6:30 in time to get ready for the day.

Twice a week should be doable. We live less than two miles apart. This is new for me--I am a solitary runner, but that's clearly not working right now. I hope it's one small step to adding what I have been longing for--moving my body in the fresh air--back into my life.

Therapy - Invisible and Control (180.2)

2011-06-10T13:07:00.003-05:00

Yesterday was a breakthrough session at therapy for me. Which means, of course, today's post is a novella. So, bear with me here.

I started by telling Julie about vacation. I thought about my dad a lot while we were in Florida. On the Star Tours ride at Hollywood Studios in Disney, because Star Wars was the first movie I saw in the theater at 7 years old, and Dad was a big sci-fi fan. At the ocean...not sure why, maybe just the vastness of it and it reminded me of heaven. At Seaworld during the dolphin show, where I got choked up and started crying at one point during the intense climax of the show--there were dolphins, acrobats, people swimming with the dolphins, and a dozen or so brightly-colored parrots that flew through the stadium over our heads, which all coalesced in the finale. It was amazing and beautiful.

I thought about Dad during that show because I felt that my response was inappropriate. I was swept up in the intensity of it all, and the tears started flowing and I had to check myself and get it under control before I embarrassed myself or my family. No one else was crying, afterall.

My Dad was fairly reclusive, but when he was among people, he often over reacted to things--big emotions, big displays of opinion. I remember feeling embarrassed more than once in my childhood years by how he behaved.

He went totally overboard on some things, like turning his Ham radio habit into storm chasing. We were little kids and when a tornado would threaten our area, mom and us girls would go to my grandparents' basement down the hill (we lived in a trailer) and dad would sit under the trailer or drive his car around, looking for the tornado.

He also focused particularly on the attacks on 9/11/01, and on the war. He and his 2nd wife bought this New York skyline (with towers in tact) that was made of mirrored glass and took up an entire wall of the dining room. It's tacky and overstated; it epitomizes what I'm trying to get to here. Inappropriate passion for something that is not personally significant (not that 9/11 isn't significant for every person in this country, but we didn't have family that died and we live in Indiana).

After I told Julie all this, she picked out the word "inappropriate." She said that happiness and sadness are close together in our emotions. That tears can come with both. That I was happy to be with my family on vacation, and I had been thinking of my dad but had to push those emotions down during the trip, and when I let myself open up to the emotional dolphin show, it was a natural reaction to shed some tears. Nothing she heard in my description sounded inappropriate.

I told her no one else was crying. She said, why do you need approval from the crowd that you can cry?

She asked what trauma I had experienced that I felt I coudn't trust my emtions and why I feel the need to not be seen? I didn't have a ready answer. I looked at the ceiling and thought. She told me to look down at my lap, look below my shoulders. I gave her a funny look and said why? I said, if I look down I'm going to cry (I was already emotional; I'd started crying in the parking lot when I left work to go to my appointment; it was a hormonal kind of day). The emotions aren't up there, they are down here, she said.

And sure enough, I looked down, started cry, let my mind run through my past, and kept coming to my childhood. I said there wasn't any one thing, no one trauma. But from puberty on, I felt like I needed to be invisible.

My dad was moody. He spent a lot of time in his recliner in our family room, where he watched TV with big stereo speakers and lots of sound (I am very sensitive to loud sounds, especially TV or music), or would listen to loud Lawrence Welk-style music. He drank sometimes. I learned to stay out of his way, or I'd get yelled at or made to feel bad about myself. I spent a lot of time in my room, by myself.

I hated his bad moods. I asked him one time if he was in a good mood or not--I was going to go with Mom somewhere if he wasn't--he said, you just asking me what kind of mood I'm in has put me in a bad mood. How's a pre-teen supposed to respond to that?

By becoming invisible. Invisible meant I didn't suffer his attention.

As I continued to look down and think, more emerged through my tears. The 18 year old boyfriend, when I was 12, used to put hickies on my neck--3 or 4 at a time. I was in 6th grade and humiliated at having an older, under-educated (read: stupid) boyfriend who marked me regularly. I was (subconsciously) devasted that I had no adults that had intervened in the abuse I was receiving from this adult boy. I wanted to hide, I was ashamed of everything about him, ashamed of my family (we lived in a trailer from 2nd grade until I entered high school), ashamed I was being abused but didn't have the power to do anything about it, ashamed I didn't have anyone who could rescue me.

I needed to be invisible to survive the four years I spent being abused in a relationship my family approved of because it was "just like my mom and dad." Mom was 12 when she met my 18 year old dad. He left for the war and was gone for 4 years, and when he returned she was 16 and he was 22, they dated for a year, got married a year later, and had me a year later. My relationship was nothing like theirs, other than the coincidence of the age differences; but this is why it was okay by my family standards.

My family's standards were seriously messed up.

Being invisible was my friend. Being invisible kept me safe from Dad's bad moods. Feeling invisible helped me survive the humiliation and shame of abuse.

Fat helps me be invisible still. When I lost weight and was thin, I was the complete opposite of invisible. I got a lot of attention--not sexual, but attention nonetheless. I've written before about how the same people would comment every week at church about how great I looked, I was keeping the weight off, how was I doing it, was I still running in races.... blah, blah, blah. It was nice at first, then it got uncomfortable. It was probably always uncomfortable but the first blush of weight loss is thrilling, and the thrill obviously masked the loss of invisibility I'd been holding on to since I was 12 years old.

Gaining weight brought the protection of invisibility back.

Julie told me--I am looking at a beautiful woman, right now. You have arrived. You don't need to be invisible anymore. You don't need the protection from being invisible to feel safe.

I haven't written or talked about this to anyone but my husband. I didn't think to talk about with Julie yesterday. But I think this is key and it just revealed itself, on why the fat came back last year.

When my dad got sick and he kicked out his wife, my uncle (Dad's brother) got very involved in Dad's care. He became a surrogate father to me and my sister. He is a Christian man who wears his faith on his sleeve. His daughter died from brain cancer at age 16; he also has two sons, one older than his daughter, one younger. He had a crush on my mom as a boy, especially I think when Dad was away in the army. I look a lot like my mom. I was still thin when Dad got sick and I spent a lot of time with my uncle, especially from January 2010 on, when Dad needed 24 hours a day care and my uncle started spending all his nights at my dad's house.

My uncle talked many, many times about how gorgeous my mom was as a girl, and how sexy she was, and how I look like my mom did back then. He never made overt passes at me, never touched me inappropriately; he mostly acted like he wanted a surrogate daughter when I needed a surrogate father. But.... I felt uncomfortable a lot around him. He complimented me all the time on how I looked. When I started gaining weight, he even said how I put the pounds on in just the right places, just like my mom when she gains weight.

It creeped me out. At the time, we needed my uncle's help too much for me to examine what was going on with these interactions. I talked to Mark about them; he said my uncle is weird but harmless. Again, there was never anything overt.

But it must have been enough for me to feel like I needed the protection of feeling invisible again. Sure, I gained weight because of the stress of my dad's illness, and the on-going drama that surrounded his estranged wife. Yet I know there is more to it, now that I realize what I needed as a child to protect myself. I needed the same protection at 40 years old, because I didn't know any other way of dealing with it.

It wasn't just my uncle's attention. I think it was any man's attention, or heck even women. I want to be liked by everyone. Skinny women are often not liked by non-skinny women; I felt that vibe sometimes even in my circle of friends.

So the layers of fat are protection and invisibility--which is not new in the realm of weight issues, but it's new for me from a connection standpoint.

After we talked about how I'd arrived and I didn't have to be invisible anymore, Julie asked me how I got out of the abusive relationship. Dad gave me a 1972 Chevelle Malibu when I turned 16. My boyfriend thought I was stuck up all of the sudden (his family was very poor and barely had a car that ran between all of them). We had also moved into a house the year before (same location--removed the trailer & moved in the modular, pre-fab home). It basically just fell apart, without my active participation.

Just like the way it started. I was with a girlfriend one summer, we went into "town" and hung out with our friend Jamey, who had a motorcycle (he was her boyfriend, I think). The first time I met him, I rode on the back of the motorcycle with Azel (yes, even his name was weird--long A sound, but it still sounds like "ass hole") on the circular dirt track where the boys rode their bikes. He took my hand in his, and put it on his thigh, then when we weren't facing the others, he put it on his crotch. He moved my hand back and forth, from his thigh to his crotch, depending on whether people could see us or not. I remember being very uncomfortable but I was stuck on this bike with an 18 year old and didn't know what to do.

The next week at school, there were kids asking about it. Asking if he was my boyfriend now. I said no. But Azel gave me his class ring through the school bus window, and I took it, having no idea what it meant. Before I knew it, I was his girlfriend. I had no experience--I was 12. I didn't know how to say no. It just happened.

Julie said, I had no control. I was swept away, dragged by the hair--caveman style--gave no consent, was marked as "his" and had no one to protect me or save me or be my voice or rescue me. She said when I got my car, he knew he'd lost control over me, that I would find my freedom and would be done with him, so he cut me off first. I gave no consent at the start, and no consent at the end.

When Julie used the word control, it hit me hard that that is why I have such control issues. I'm a control freak. I have claustrophia because of the lack of control I feel when I'm in a closed in space. We talked about control issues at my very first therapy session. But now we knew where that came from.

When I was thin, I not only lost invisibility, I lost control, too. I couldn't control people's reactions to me. Couldn't control their attention or questions or reactions to my new body. I also couldn't control my own emotional response to my potential power as a thin woman. At first it was heady, but I didn't know what to do with it. The initial rush was novel and fun, but it became uncomfortable in a way I didn't even realize at the time.

I journaled a lot of this yesterday afternoon while Luke was at gymnastics, so I didn't forget it. I also asked myself these questions:

--Can I control reactions of others by being fat? Yes, in my head at least. No reactions means no attention.

--I feel ashamed of being fat. Do I need to feel bad and ashamed, because of the abuse? Do I (still) feel as if I don't deserve any better?

I have done no research into abuse victims' behavior and mentality. I never thought of myself as being abused (because, understand, I never thought of that time in my life. Period. It has been locked deep inside me in a dark black box for decades). It seems to me that all the information on how to diet or exercise or lose weight is worthless, until I understand these newly revealed issues.

Last night I kept repeating to myself that I don't have to be invisible. I don't have to eat when I'm not hungry so I can be invisible. I can trust myself with my own emotional responses (I told Julie my family was so full of disfunction, I have no idea what's appropriate and what's not, and it's always been better to just keep myself in control than to err on the side of embarrasement). I can give consent when I choose; no one is going to make me do anything that I don't give consent for. I can give over control, when I say it's okay.

I am under no illusions that my deeply held damaged beliefs are going to be healed after one hour of therapy and a blog post that runs from here to China. But it's a start. A start that has been a long time coming. And I can taste a tiny bit of freedom in all this pain.

Jen's post on "things that get in the way"

2011-06-10T06:00:00.013-05:00

Please go read Jen's blog for an eye-opening post.

Jen, I tried to comment several times but blogger wouldn't take my URL or my google account. So, here's my commment:

Great post, Jen, thank you for sharing. Good for you for standing up for yourself!

It's interesting to me that so many of the bloggers I read are now on this path (or searching for this path). We lost weight, we gained some back, we know what we did the first time didn't stick, we want to get it right now.

I haven't read this type of explanation before, not in this way. Very enlightening.

More on yesterday's post (180.4)

2011-06-09T10:30:00.001-05:00

Yesterday I wrote "Being fat is what I know. Being thin was the anomaly."

I've been noodling that thought in my head ever since.

When I lost weight and was thin, I thought at the time that I felt more like myself than I ever had for all those years I was fat. I felt like I'd finally been freed from the demons of being overweight, and I was then free to be the real me, instead of the me hiding under layers of fat.

Now I just don't know. I think "being fat is what I know" is a cop out. I think it's more of what Geneen Roth says about being fat and being obsessed with diets and food. It's a cover for what's really going on inside me. If I'm occupied with this body stuff, then I don't have to look at and examine the real issues.

Not that the weight isn't a real issue. Clearly, it is. It affects every single aspect of my life.

But I didn't regain weight because food tastes good. I use food like a drug; I'm self soothing, self medicating, and self sabotaging.

As I thought yesterday about the benefits I experienced from being thin beyond the clothes and how I looked in the mirror and in pictures--it has to be about more than just looks, right?--I realized that what I miss most about that time in my life is running and exercising regularly. I spent a good deal of time taking care of myself, of announcing to myself and to the world that "I'm worth it!"

I lost that when my dad got sick in late 2009, and especially in 2010, when so much of my "free" time was spent taking care of him and his concerns. But dad's been gone for over six months. I gained 10 pounds while he was sick; I gained 20 pounds after he died. I didn't go back to taking care of myself when I didn't have to take care of him anymore.

So what's holding me back now? Why can't I make the time to take care of myself? Do I feel like I don't deserve the care and attention? Why did I feel like I deserved it in 2007-2009, but I don't now?

I have no idea. More to explore. This stuff is hard.

Vickie's scale post & my reaction to it (181.2)

2011-06-08T14:46:00.000-05:00

Vickie wrote a really great post in response to one of my questions on her blog.

It is rich in revelations for me.

She wrote: "Think of how many times a day we think about fat, negative thoughts about fat. I think positive thoughts, about being my real size, just as many times a day, in tiny ways."

It is ridiculous how many times a day I think about my weight and my body in unhappy ways. I don't remember where I read/heard this, but some woman (famous, I think) said that women think of their bodies/weight as many times a day as men think about sex.

I have always maintained that, if I lost weight and was happy with my body, the amount of space in my brain I'd have available to think positive thoughts could change the world. Okay, maybe not change the world, but certainly influence my little pocket of the world in ways I'm not doing now.

When I was in the low 150s, I had a lot of positive thoughts, like Vickie talks about in her post. My size 8 clothes all fit. I could run for miles and felt invincible. I was lifting weights and felt strong. I looked great in pictures and in the mirror. I blogged about my success and felt like an inspiration.

But I still had those "fat head" thoughts. Sure, I had a lot of happy body thoughts, but I still hated my belly pooch, my saddlebags, and my thighs.  Hated them enough that even though I can look back at pictures of myself in late 2007 and 2008 and 2009 and think, "what I wouldn't give to look like that now," back then I felt like I wasn't thin enough, wasn't good enough, needed to do more and be more.  Before I could be okay.

Today.... I assume that if/when I get back to size 8s, I'll be more appreciative of my size, no matter what the scale says or where I am in the BMI charts ("normal BMI" for me doesn't happen until 149 pounds, so even at 152-155, I am still "overweight BMI"). But. Will it be enough... next time?

It's a moot point (or moo point, as Joey from Friends would say--I love that), because I don't weigh 152 pounds or wear a size 8. Today I weighed 181.2 pounds and am wearing (loose) size 16 capri's and an XL t-shirt.

I know my insides didn't match my outside in 2007-2009. I guess my insides and my outside match right now. I feel like a 182 pound woman inside. I spent most of my adult life weighing 180+ pounds. From age 26 through age 31 I held steady in the 180s, size 14s. Then I had a baby and another baby, and the scale kept going up and up, until I weighed over 220 pounds when I came home from the hospital with my son in 2005.

Being fat is what I know. Being thin was the anomaly.

Even in high school, I wasn't fat but thought I was. I have a prom picture from my senior year and my waist is t.i.n.y. I remember my prom dress size was 11. 11 was for fat girls. Thin girls wore size 5 or 7. I was close, but never good enough, even then. Especially then.

I keep looking back at 2008-2009--it doesn't help that I've been working with photos from vacation and have also been looking at pictures of myself from those years--and feeling utterly bereft.

Borrowing from Vickie's use of definitions is helpful here: "bereft" = deprived or robbed of the possession or use of something; lacking something needed, wanted, or expected; suffering the death of a loved one.

And I realize, what my therapist told me back at our first meeting, that I am in mourning. I'm not just mourning my dad and all the complexities of our relationship. I'm not just mourning the lack of a nurturing childhood. I'm also mourning the loss of who I was, who I had created myself to be in 2007 and 2008 and 2009.

You don't know what you've got until it's gone. Totally applies to those years, when I still wasn't happy with my weight and my size.

But what if it applies to today, too? What if those fat head thoughts--I'm not thin enough, I'm not good enough, I need to do more and be more before I'm okay--are what hold me back today? And are keeping me unnecessarily unhappy and feeling like I was somehow robbed of a better life that I'd be living if I hadn't regained 30 pounds?

It's the same recording in my head now as it was in the Thin Years. It's just louder now, because I don't have the smaller body and smaller clothing to dampen the roar. Fat amplifies it all, but fat doesn't create the fat-head messages. Those have been there much, much too long to go away without kicking and screaming.

My therapist Julie and I talked about how I need to unhook my self-worth from my size.  Clearly, I have no idea how to do that.

The bereft feelings are real; I won't deny them or run from them or ignore them. I also don't want to wallow in the past, and that's what it feels like I'm doing.

Thank goodness I'm going to see her tomorrow. I've got a lot of inside working out to do.

The After

2011-06-06T14:34:00.001-05:00

We got home from vacation yesterday morning around 9:30 am. The kids were ready to be home--they missed their beds and our dog. I was ready, too. Sort of. But I knew today would be awful.

I remember when we came home from St John in 2009. I'd had 9 days of no responsibilities whatsoever--I didn't even drive a car while I was there. And I loved it. I loved waking up and not having to worry about anyone but myself. I loved the ocean, loved the sun, loved the freedom.

So much so that when I got home, I freaked out because I didn't want to get all the responsibility back that I had before I left. I love my children and my husband and our little family. But sometimes.... getting in the car by myself and driving South until I can't drive anymore sounds really appealing. Especially in 2009, when my Dad got sick and the stock market was still in turmoil and I had to deal with all that on top of my normal everyday responsibilities.

This trip, I had the kids and my husband, so I still had a lot of responsibility (packing for 10 days for three people--thankfully Mark does pack for himself--is a ton of work, especially when you stay in three different hotels and have to repack three times) but I didn't have "real life" responsibility.

The beach was laid back and peaceful and AWESOME. (I should have been born near an ocean.)

Daytona beach, around 7 pm. Our hotel was on the beach; we just walked down some stairs and were right there. It was amazing.

Disney was exhausting but fun. Seaworld was inspiring; Discovery Cove, where Mark & Sophie swam with a dolphin and where Sophie learned to snorkel around a salt-water coral reef, was like paradise.

Breakfast with the Disney characters at Chef Mickey's. This was our most expensive mael on the entire trip.... Mark got us the last walk-in table--I couldn't get a reservation before we left, because they were all booked. We had no idea we'd be paying $128 (I know!!) for a breakfast buffet. Still, it was a ton of fun. All the characters stopped at our table and let us take pictures.

It was great to be home yesterday. We were all tired, but it was pleasant to be back home and still together.

Today, I knew, would suck.

I got Sophie off to her first week of summer camp, Luke back to daycare, picked up the mail at the post office, sorted through it, got ready for work (I hadn't done my hair and makeup beyond eyeliner and mascara for over a week, so that was hard too), and got to the office at 11:30. The whole time, I was depressed and wanted to cry.

I downloaded our pictures from the trip at work. That helped a bit. I plan to get them printed right away so we can get a photo album put together soon--I don't want to end up letting this trip slip away and not have the memories in an album, so whenever we want to, we can relive our first big vacation as a family.

There aren't many pictures of me, which is normal when Mom is the photographer (and my husband's close-up eyesight is terrible without his reading glasses, so when he takes a picture he can barely see if it's "good" or not--even the ones he did take of me are pretty lousy). But there are enough for me to see the weight gain. My upper arms are sadly the most depressing part of my body; they just seem so much bigger than I remember from when I was heavier before. I did wear sleeveless a lot, which I know is a fashion don't for me right now, but it was Florida and I wanted to be comfortable.

Sophie and me at my favorite Disney park, Hollywood Studios.

Luke and me on the Nemo ride (we're in a clamshell) at Epcot.

I didn't look any worse than many other moms we saw. Sure, there were plenty of gorgeous hard bodies, but we were at family locations mostly and there are a lot of middle aged moms who look just like I do.

Still. It was only two years ago I looked at pictures of vacation and thought, Damn, I look hot.

So. I'm depressed about being home, depressed about my body, depressed I have such a ridiculous amount of stuff to do to recover from vacation. Depressed because I thought about my Dad a lot on vacation, and I didn't have anywhere to put those emotions while we were in a happy place, so they are still stuffed down inside of me. Depressed because I don't know why I keep longing for an escape to a life by the sea that will never happen. Depressed I can't let myself be happy with the blessed life I've been handed on a silver platter.

I know this will pass. It's only temporary. I have many, many happy memories of our trip. It truly was special and magical. I didn't worry (much) about my pudgy arms and belly while we were vacationing. I had a lot of fun, and enjoyed every precious second with my children and husband.

But today, the after of vacation is a bummer.

*****
I haven't weighed yet. I'm sure I gained weight over vacation, but I am still pretty bloated and don't want to "see" that bloat on the scale yet. I'll probably weigh in a few days, after I've eaten clean food for a while. One good thing about vacation--I am sick of eating food prepared by someone else, which hopefully translates to my eating home-cooked, healthy stuff for a long time.

Test

2011-06-06T13:36:00.001-05:00

Blogger says I can post via email. So this is a test to see if it works.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Perfect Sunday (178.8)

2011-05-23T13:09:00.003-05:00

Yesterday was a practically perfect day. We went to church, took Sophie out to our favorite Japanese hibachi restaurant for her birthday (which is Wednesday), and got ice cream at Cold Stone (we go there about once a year--it's waaayyy too rich for more often than that).

Then we went home and changed clothes, laid around and talked for about 30 minutes, deciding what to do next. It was a windy and warm day, and great kite flying weather.

We have had the same parafoil kite since Sophie was three or four years old. I bought it for her from a speciality toy store in town--the kind that has more wooden toys than plastic, and more educational stuff than commercials in a box. I think I paid maybe $15 or $20 for it. It fits snugly in a small bag, has a super long tail of pink, orange, and yellow ribbons, and is a breeze to get in the air.

Before we flew the kite, we first went to the park to feed the ducks. We fed mostly geese, who are greedy and aggressive, and pretty funny. We saw one duck family with two baby ducklings, and threw bread to them as close as possible because the geese are fast and snatch the bread away. Mama Duck didn't stick around long when the geese closed in.

This is the same park where I've put hundreds of miles on my feet, on the .8 mile asphalt loop that goes around the park and also on the longer trail that is next to the park, about 1.5 miles in total, around the soccer fields and beside a couple of roads nearby. I love it there--so many gorgeous trees and two small lakes. I've had many an emotional break down in that park, and many more joyous running moments.

There's a huge 220+ year old cherry bark oak tree that stands about 100 yards from the big lake. I know these details on the tree thanks to a sign that was erected in 1991 by some Hoosier Tree Huggers (that's not their official title, but I don't remember who put up the sign). The kids have come to the park a lot over the years to feed the ducks, but we've never taken them to the tree. Yesterday we all walked out to see it. It's the biggest tree I've ever seen. Not in height, but in breadth. It's sprawling--the limbs have grown impossibly long. The trunk is huge--I wish we'd all tried to hug it and see if we could touch fingers. I don't think we could, but we will have to try that next time.

There's a wide expanse of green field just past the tree, and we tried to fly the kite there but it didn't take. Too many buildings and trees around to hold off the consistent winds we needed to get it to stay in the air.

So we walked back to the car and drove to the soccer fields near our house, where we always have success with our kite. Here are some pictures from 2009.

I didn't take any pictures yesterday. We just enjoyed spending time with each other.

Mark is the designated "get the kite in the air" guy. He loves it. He lets the string all the way out. Sophie and I like the kite at a nice, close, safe distance. Mark likes to push boundaries and is adventurous. My stomach gets nervous when Mark first starts letting it go really high; I don't know why... maybe a reverse fear of heights? I talked about it with Sophie, because she didn't want Mark to let the kite go all the way out either.

I said that at first, I feel anxious when the kite shifts from comfortably in control to beyond what we think is "safe." Then I surrender to the faith I have in Mark and in the kite and the string, and sit back and watch with a "whatever happens, happens" attitude. Then, when Mark announces that it's as high as it will go, I sit in wonder and stare at the kite, which now only has two tails because the yellow one disappears into the sky when it's that high.

The force of the pull on the kite is very strong when it's flying high. It takes some concentration and strength to hang on tight to the string's now-empty spool. The kids both took a turn flying it. Sophie held on for a long time, and got it to do loop-de-loops. Luke was scared he'd let go or it would slip, and didn't fly it long. Mark wished for a skate board like he had in his childhood, that he could stand on and let the kite pull him along. I sat on the blanket in the late day sun, happy and relaxed and thankful we were spending some remarkably blessed time together as a family.

When we were ready to go, it took a good 15 minutes to pull it back in. Mark pulled the string and gave the slack to Sophie, who twirled it around the spool like a pro. Before we completely reeled it in, we each took a turn flying it again at a closer height--the kite barely pulled and it was easy to hold on.

But as it neared the ground, it also became more likely to crash. It was fun to watch it swirl and spin and dive, then on Luke's watch it nose dived into the ground. We laughed and laughed, wound the string up tight, folded it away, walked back to the car and drove three minutes home.

I could wax metaphorical on my kite anxiety and fear and subsequent faith, but I think the experience speaks for itself.

We leave for Florida on Thursday morning for a 10 day vacation. Daytona Beach, then Disney World, then Sea World. We haven't had a long vacation with the kids in over five years. I'm almost all packed, did not have to buy a size 18 swim suit (size 16, and it is not tight at all), and even though I'm not skinny, I feel much better about my body than I did a month ago. I've built some strength and endurance, and I'm not worried about walking the parks for hours. I'm looking forward to it, actually, hoping the walking will do my legs good.

And best of all, even though I won't be in the Happiest Place on Earth until May 29th, today I feel happy.

Tasteless (178.8)

2011-05-19T06:00:00.044-05:00

Part of the problem with eating with distractions--TV, books, computer--is that you usually don't realize when the shift happens from "this tastes good" to "this doesn't taste like anything."

The first bites are always the best. "Hunger is the best seasoning" is true (which is why I eat my vegetables first).

Almost more than anything else, how food tastes--or doesn't taste--in my mouth helps me know if I'm getting close to full.

It takes 20 minutes for the brain to know the stomach is full, right? If I'm still eating 20 minutes after I started, it's likely that I've started with a salad and then had an appetizer and then dinner and now am on desert. Meaning---it doesn't take me 20 minutes to eat a "normal" sized meal (without distractions.)

So, how am I supposed to know that I'm full or getting full if there's this time disconnect between my stomach and my brain?

Apparently, I just need to pay attention to my tongue.

Paying attention to my tongue means paying attention to what I'm putting in my mouth, while I'm putting it in my mouth. Not after my plate is clean.

Even sugary and fatty foods stop tasting good after you've eaten enough. I don't eat an entire pint of Ben & Jerry's in one sitting because the ice cream tastes delicious from top to bottom (although, yeah, it does taste like liquid love, but that's a problem I'm working on with my therapist, ha). I eat it because I want to get numb.

But I don't want to live life in the numb lane any more. That's not living.

"Enough is as good as a feast," Mary Poppins says. I say that to my kids a lot. I'm saying it to myself more and more.

And when a bite of food is nearly tasteless, I take one more bite to confirm I've had enough. And call it a feast.

****
Today was my first workout since last Friday. The morning gym time, resulting in my getting to the office at 11 or noon--was wearing thin on my boss/husband. So we are finding a middle ground, hopefully. If I take the 8 am classes, then I can get here by 10. If I do that a couple times a week, it should work fine.

I didn't get to the kick boxing class this morning until 8:30, but I got in a solid 15 minutes of cardio and 5 minutes of core and 5 minutes of stretching, then I did 20 minutes on the indoor track. I like the track a lot. It's big--just over 10 laps per mile. I alternated walking a lap with running a lap. Running is already easier with the weight I've taken off, and I presume I'm building some muscles and endurance somewhere inside my body.

I got a new pair of shoes for the classes (ordered online from Sierra Trading Post for $55, which is a good deal), that are volleyball cross trainers. Lots more cushion in the forefoot. I could tell a huge difference even in the shortened class. I don't think I could do much more than a mile or so in them walking or running, though. My forefoot was starting to rub uncomfortably after my last lap, which I sprinted (I like to finish fast...makes me feel like I've given my all). My running shoes are still in great shape, since they've not been used much yet. Planning on wearing them out over the next few months.